


If You'd Bite The Hand That Feeds You

by LookingForHell



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Drama, For awhile anyway, Frigga's awesomeness, FrostIron - Freeform, Jotun Loki, M/M, Odin's A+ Parenting, Torture is not proper punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 03:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 54,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LookingForHell/pseuds/LookingForHell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once again, Loki has brought destruction to Earth, and been defeated and captured for his crimes. Once again, it seems inevitable that he will escape- until the chance arrives to bring him right back to Asgard, where the Avengers expect he'll be kept effectively captive for awhile. Instead, he is sentenced to a torturous punishment and a humiliating trial, and Tony soon finds himself Loki's sole defender against Odin's twisted "justice".</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You'd Bite The Hand That Feeds You

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt on Norsekink. Some of you may have read this there, and know of my horribly slow updating, but this is finally the story in its entirety. I had many little notes each update, but I thought it would be better to upload the whole thing at once.
> 
> This is a compilation of universes, really, though mostly the MCU. One of the most notable changes is that Loki is a villain as he usually is in the comics; a recurring pain in the ass, and that the Avengers-specific interactions never went down (since this was written before the movie came out). It's also a mix of mythological "canon" as well- but, as Marvel obviously doesn't follow that to the T, don't expect this to serve as some comprehensive lecture on Scandinavian myhthos.
> 
> Edit: There were some formatting problems, but when these were fixed, all comments on chapter 2 (which is now not necessary as the whole story fits in this one) were deleted! D: So, if you commented before, many sorries, but those have vanished.

The one thing about Loki that made him so much fucking  _worse_  than all the other psychopaths?

He was always smiling.

He smiled before he killed, he smiled before he blasted public property to pieces, and he smiled while they held him face-first against the ground, Tony’s repulsor pressed against the back of his head to keep it still, ready to fire at any second. He smiled even though he had a broken arm that was currently being forced into manacles, which shot him with sedative every thirty minutes (Tony never had been able to find a way to repress his magic, it was like trying to stop a human’s ability to bleed). He was smiling even though he was cut up and bloody and had well and thoroughly  _lost_.

“If you’d wanted to get on top of me you could have just asked, you know.” Loki taunted with that same cocky grin. It was exactly what Tony would have said, which really pissed him off for some reason- he checked to make sure Thor wasn’t looking then shoved his knee against the break in his right arm.

Loki winced, gasped with pain, but laughed at the display of anger and went right back to wearing that too-satisfied smile. “Playing rough now, are we? I’m afraid you’ll have to buy me dinner first. I’m partial to- oh, ow.” The sharp intake of breath didn’t do anything to dispel the metaphor Loki kept planting in Tony’s head, but he successfully beat aside any inappropriate thoughts and finished clamping the manacle around his second wrist, which made the god cringe, momentarily, as another needle shot into his arm. Two down, one drug to go. Tony was pretty sure all they’d succeed in doing was making Loki a bit loopy, but he flipped the metaphorical switches anyway. Better loopy than nothing.

“Anybody else want to do this?” Tony whined, way too late now. He waited a few moments for a glazed look to pass over Loki’s eyes, for his smile to become slightly less sure, before standing and hauling him up after him, none too gently.

Sure,  _now_  the others moved in. Though Tony had to admit that it would have been impossible for them to help in any way, with the controls hacked in to the Iron Man suit, and Loki, thin as he was, only needed one guy to hold him down. So long as that one guy was wearing two hundred pounds of metal death, anyway. Steve took over the manhandling-one hand grabbing the manacled wrists as another clamped itself firmly on the shoulder of his uninjured arm, which Tony thought was being way too nice all things considered- and smiled gratefully at Tony, who was instantly abashed for his complaints.

Which didn’t make any sense really but hey. Captain America.

“Where’s Thor?” Natasha demanded, treating them all to the view of a partially ripped jumpsuit without looking even remotely abashed, despite Steve’s very obvious efforts to avoid looking at her exposed bra and ribs. Tony didn’t even bother- thank god for the helmet.

“I left him halfway through fighting one of those lizards. Mjolnir’s the only thing that gets to them,” Steve explained as he double, triple, and however many times over checked the bindings on Loki’s wrists. Which were probably completely unnecessary by this point- even without the sedative. Judging by the lack of explosions or spontaneous summoning of more reptilian horse-lizards from hell (quite possibly literally) Loki had more or less depleted his supply of energy about the same time Cap’s shield knocked him out of the air.

“Now now, Thor can’t miss a show like this. This is my grand finale, I need a proper audience.” It couldn’t have been clearer how laughable Loki thought they were- he was perfectly confident, despite his wounds, that he’d be back to being a pain in their asses in no time at all.

Not this time. They’d learned before that SHIELD had as of yet had nothing proper for retaining gods and Tony, much to his annoyance, hadn’t been able to supply them with one just yet. A little too busy trying to catch said god in the first place. He saw that the other two were ignoring Loki so he did too, which was a lot easier when he had the suit masking his rolling eyes. “Where’s Hawkeye gotten to? There’s only enough in these things to keep him down for an hour.”

“Subduing the Hulk. Bruce needs to be fit for travel.” If Loki found Natasha’s response interesting, was maybe curious  _why_  they were going to be doing any traveling, he certainly didn’t show it. In fact his smile only broadened and he turned away from him, watching the wreckage he’d made of New York with a look of immense satisfaction.

Yeah, definitely crazy. Tony tried to bite down some sound of disgust and may or may not have succeeded- it didn’t matter, seeing as Loki was happily ignoring them all anyway. There were tracks of blood running down his face, each with a different starting point, and Tony had just enough time to think that they should probably do something about that before Thor showed up when the air cracked with a voice that was more than thunder could ever be.

“Brother! Truly it is over, then?” There was a mixture of relief and joy- because hell they’d been going at this for  _hours_  and even Tony, with the suit to keep him running, was absolutely exhausted- and that frustrating sadness that always followed Thor’s words to his sort-of sibling. Tony saw him narrow his eyes at the manacles, which only made Loki laugh and grin again, blood trailing through his teeth, and decided he’d better respond.

“Truly it is, big guy. Verily, and hoorah to our forefathers. What a joyous morn. Whatever.” Tony saw Natasha narrow her eyes and heard Steve hiss  _”Tony!_  " through his teeth but didn’t care. Thor was too nice to realize he was being played with, he always seemed to think Tony just had an awful grasp of proper Asgardian speech, and was too polite to correct him.

Loki, of course, gave a theatrical sigh and turned a mocking look on his brother, still smiling as he did it. “Sometimes I wonder if your hide or your head is thicker, Thor.”

Thor growled in a way that made even Tony’s skin crawl, but Loki just kept on smiling. “Know your place, Brother. What you have done here today is-“

“A work of genius? Don’t worry, I already know. Though I could have done with a few fine touches, I suppose,” Loki mused, glancing very pointedly at his captor, who was even more pointedly pretending he didn’t notice. “Now, Thor, why such a look? I thought we were family.”

“It is you who claims to be no family of mine, Loki,” Thor snapped, and the use of his name rather than fraternal title seemed to baffle Loki for a second, but his smile never vanished. It just morphed, took on a malicious, almost proud aspect, but the trickster said nothing in return. Tony could see Thor battling with everything he’d wanted to say to his brother for the past month and watched him purse his lips with the same stubborn silence. Apparently the time for sibling rivalry would come later, with Loki safely contained and the Avengers elsewhere, which Tony was more than grateful for. He just wanted to get this guy off to Asgard then spend the next week hiding under the covers of his bed back in Malibu, listening to Pepper list all the meetings he was skiving off.

Natasha’s receiver practically screamed with static, and they all cursed or jumped or somehow found a way to block their ears- except Thor, and Loki, who just went on glaring/smiling at each other. “Report.” She demanded after successfully complying with whatever command that horrible noise was supposed to indicate.

After a few moments of holding the device up to her ear she nodded and shut it off without another word, clipping it to the waistband of her pants now that they didn’t have any more fighting to keep it out of the way of.

“Intelligence’s caught wind of three more reptiles downtown. The transport jet’s almost here, Thor, we don’t have time to wait for you.” Natasha rarely sounded apologetic, and even Tony could barely catch the trace of sympathy behind her words. Thor’s face fell further, and he cast an anxious look towards Loki that the trickster seemed entirely disinterested in.

It was obvious that Thor wanted to leave the beasts to someone else so he could transport his brother home, but nothing but Mjolnir would take those things out, and no-one but Thor could carry Mjolnir. (Well, maybe Steve, but none of them had thought it would be a good idea to test it out and Thor certainly didn’t seem likely to part with his hammer just for a few test runs.) “Detain him awhile longer. I will not take long.”

He probably wouldn’t, either, even though Loki’s creatures could take out a city block in ten seconds flat- but it would still be too long. “No can do. We’re counting on your dad’s mumbo jumbo to keep this guy down, I’ve only got enough to keep him out for another forty seven minutes.” Precisely.

Now they had his attention. Loki turned roughly to face Tony, wrenching his bad arm the wrong way and making some whimper of pain that lasted about two seconds and seemed to physically  _hurt_  Thor, with a cast of suspicion over that creepy-ass smile. “My father? What are you talking about?”

“You’re homeward bound, pal. And it looks like your owners are coming along, so don’t worry about any canine misadventures.” Nobody else seemed to have the slightest idea what he was talking about (he was going to have to time them down one of these days, just watch- who in their right mind hadn’t seen Homeward Bound?), but Loki caught his meaning anyway. He turned away from Tony before he could catch the god’s reaction and fixed a gaze he couldn’t see on Thor, who looked desperately towards Natasha as if hoping she would somehow have heard that the lizards had spontaneously combusted or something.

She shook her head and went right on to business, snapping at Tony to go find Clint and Bruce and fly them back here before the plane’s ETA, which was about five minutes (because Thor, of course, wasn't about to leave them with Loki, no matter how convenient it would be). He muttered something about tyranny and wounded circuitry that everyone ignored but took off anyway- and for a while they were all too busy to celebrate their success in much of anything.

Hulk, as it turned out, had gotten about a mile away from the rest of them at some point, so that meant a four mile trip with Tony going back and forth twice because he couldn’t very well carry two people (both of whom complained to one extent or another, might he add, the entire time) even without an already strained suit. Then there was a good five minutes spent convincing Thor to go  _now_  and another ten on-plane wasted arguing with Fury over the phone, who seemed to think it would be a good idea for them to babysit Loki all the way to Asgard. Tony and Clint made such a fuss that Coulson eventually agreed to go along just to shut them up, and the idea of seeing  _Coulson_  in his prim-pressed suit standing in the middle of an Asgardian court was enough to make them both agree.

Only after they’d been en route for twenty minutes and Tony finally turned to Loki, intending to ask how he was liking his cage, did he realize that the god had stopped smiling.

\----

Communicating with all-seeing gods was nowhere near as easy as it sounds, even when you’ve got the fucking  _god of mischief_  held as a very temporary prisoner and you’d think those pompous bastards would be a little more grateful about the offer.

But no. Right. Apparently it wasn’t “custom” to allow mortals into Asgard, especially without an Aesir accompanying them (Loki snarled when Coulson mentioned this, but the agent either didn’t notice or more likely just didn’t care), and  _definitely_  not when the whole party of mortal travelers was more or less armed to the teeth. Big deal. Tony was confident he could blow any of them right in the head with his repulsors, and they probably wouldn’t even end up with headaches. Even so they were standing under the known bifrost site for about three minutes (very  _precious_  minutes, seeing as they only had about six left before the sedative started to wear off) did they finally get the magical storm of power that said their road was open, more or less.

It may have taken Tony going for the manacles and unlocking one of them to do it but hey, drastic times and all that.

Whatever the hell the bifrost was, it definitely was  _not_  comfortable- Tony’d had easier rides at Six Flags. Drunk. After not sleeping for five days. Or eating. Point being he was so near the verge of vomiting when the big “whoosh” had ended that he couldn’t even appreciate the fact that he’d just passed through an inter-planetary border, and focused instead on not throwing up in the suit. That was never a good idea, especially with the head down and systems locked up tight, because he really didn’t trust the armor to stay on while being swept off to another realm.

“Get a hold of yourself, Stark.” Coulson, probably- the voice was male and it was only Natasha and Coulson out of the group who called him by his last name. Tony tried to stick out his tongue, but the effect was completely ruined owing to the fact that there was a big chunk of metal in front of his face.

“Why? We got a welcoming party?” Tony looked around for the first time- and didn’t freeze in his tracks, or widen his eyes in awe and stumble back or anything as dramatic as that. He did, however, let out an impressed whistle- the bifrost, though according to reports had been destroyed in a brotherly spat not that long ago, was one very impressive piece of magical impossibility. They were standing in some excessive and freaky looking dome with walls that seemed to be glowing, and in the distance was a bridge (no surprise there) that looked to actually be made out of light. Rainbow light. With rainbows.

And standing on said rainbow bridge was what looked to be a miniature battalion of Vikings, complete with giant swords and dramatic body armor. At their head looked to be none other than Odin himself, come to see the not-so-happy return of his youngest son. Loki tensed and tried to take a step back, but they held him firm and ignored his slightly drugged-out growl of "keep your place, Mortals". Tony was still a little dazed, and he barely turned in time to register that there was a tall black man with gold pincer armor standing about two feet away from him before said man spoke, in a deeper voice than Tony would have thought he could ever take seriously.

“Loki has returned, my King.” He didn’t look at any of them, or even at Odin, directly- just kept on staring forward with those bright yellow eyes. It was unnerving, really.

“Your son’s been the cause of some undue trouble on our planet, Allfather.” Coulson clipped, the only one looking entirely unaffected by their surroundings- even Natasha seemed impressed, and Bruce was staring at the bifrost like he wanted to take off a chunk and go analyze it. “I hope you understand that we cannot merely pass him into your custody. I’m under orders to observe his incarceration and confirm for myself that he won’t escape- and SHIELD would like to discuss business as well.”

One of the Vikings narrowed his eyes, but Odin seemed not to care that Coulson’s level of respect was more befitting of an unpleasant ambassador than a king of the gods and only nodded, brusquely, keeping his gaze fixed on Loki. Both Tony and Steve had a hand on him now, to show they knew what they were doing, and neither let go during the silence that followed this brief exchange.

“No offense, all daddy, but we’d rather keep hold of him ‘till we see a prison. If you don’t mind.” By the look Odin gave him yes, he did mind, but Tony only grinned in response- again, hidden by the helmet, though he had the unnerving feeling that the god could tell what he was doing anyway.

Surprisingly, though, he didn’t argue, despite marching his men personally from, Tony supposed, the very tall and very far away castle of what looked to be literally made of gold. No doubt he was hoping for some sort of procession, or else he’d wanted to show how seriously he took Loki’s offense against Midgard (despite making no active effort to help it). Either way, they were the ones who’d caught him, they were the ones who had what Odin probably considered the privilege of keeping hold on the trickster as they passed through El Dorado over there.

“Here is not the place for this.” Odin spoke at last, and Tony was surprised to hear that he sounded almost… friendly, despite the underlying disappointment as he looked down on Loki. Which was a lot harder to hear than anger, and for a second Tony felt the bizarre urge to snap in his defense, but hey- this was  _Loki_ , not some misbehaving little kid who’d graduated college ten years too early. Nope, not the same one bit. “You have my gratitude and my hospitality- come with me to the castle and it shall be given to you. And my son will face his crimes.”

Odin’s one eye stayed fixed on Loki, who for once was keeping his mouth shut, before the god turned in one dramatic movement to lead them down the bridge. His soldiers pulled an about face and began to march after him immediately, which made it pretty clear that they were expected to accept this offer without comment. Whatever, hospitality Tony could do with. Hospitality meant food, rest, and some of that Asgardian stuff that Thor sometimes brought down that tasted like heaven in a (very alcoholic) cup.

So they followed. They practically had to drag Loki after them-he was now growling and snapping at them, too much drug still in his system for him to break free even if he had had two good arms- but Tony was too distracted by the sights and prospects to care. Though if he’d been paying attention he might have stopped to notice that Loki was trembling under his grip, from a lot more than pain.

“Wow. Long way down,” Tony muttered, impressed despite himself by the fact that the bridge seemed to lead off into space itself, with waterfalls pouring off at the city’s end. Impressed and very much nervous- he’d like to be off this thing  _right now_ , thank you very much- but the flat rainbow pathway was, unfortunately, a long enough walk that he doubted whether it would have taken less than five minutes by car.

Bruce glanced over the edge and gulped anxiously, quickly turning his eyes forward again. “I’m never fighting on Asgard. If for some reason I think it’s a good idea to Hulk out within two light years of this place you all tie me up and keep me knocked out for the rest of the trip, okay?”

“Gladly,” Loki sneered before any of them could respond, and though Tony knew Clint was probably about to say the same thing the archer glared and prodded Loki sharply in the back with his bow.

The god grimaced and hissed under his breath-he probably had a bruise from where Tony’d been shoving his armored knee into his back- but did no more than smirk. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was the closest he’d gotten to one since they’d discussed Asgard, which made Tony relax, just a little. Loki was unpredictable in the worst of ways, but it was  _really_  unsettling when even the few quirks they could recognize stopped showing up.

Odin and his guards had a sort of stony silence that was more catching than it should have been, and they fell silent after that. (Though Tony couldn’t help muttering something that could probably have been “We’re Off to See the Wizard” under his breath until Natasha threatened to stab him in the jugular with some nail clippers and shut him up again.) Even Loki didn’t make his usual taunting remarks and, to Tony’s disbelief, actually ducked his head to glare at the ground when they made it into the city itself.

No wonder why. It looked like half of the Asgardian population had dropped by, both gods and whatever all those who didn’t get the fancy apples were called, to watch them walk on past. A few looked surprised at the absence of Thor, others were very vocally appalled by the human presence in the midst of their precious-metal homesteads, but all seemed relieved to see Loki in (the equivalent of) chains. Most of them cheered or called out, many clapped their hands on the Avenger’s shoulders as they passed. Tony finally conceded to remove his helmet, just so he could grin and wave properly as they proceeded onwards, but he realized only Clint was doing anything similar and frowned.  
“Come on Cap, you can’t say you don’t enjoy this. Who’s the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan, again?”

“Shut up, Tony,” Steve snapped, but he wasn’t looking at Tony himself. He was staring at Loki, and when Tony did the same he felt any sort of celebratory mood vanish in an instant.

The god was shaking like a leaf, at least halfway due to anger but in part owing to a million different emotions Tony couldn’t even begin to read as they flashed through his eyes. Considering he was back in his home country, albeit as a prisoner but still a  _prince_ , he looked far more out of place than he ever had on Earth- more scared, expectant.

Wow, talk about bipolar, had he really expected to be getting anything but distrust and dislike after everything he’d done? Still, Tony stopped with the showboating and followed along in silence, doing his best to appreciate the weirdness of the fact that he was  _on Asgard_  while trying not to be too overwhelmed by the architecture. When they reached the castle, though, he swore under his breath in awe and earned a smack on the back of the head that could, honestly, have come from any of them.

“Bastards," Tony muttered, but he hesitated no longer and, following Steve’s example, gave Loki one last shove forward to follow after his father, into the towering halls of the King’s court.

It definitely… was exactly what Tony had expected, actually. More gold, lots of fancy medieval outfits that looked horribly uncomfortable, giant pillars and golden chandeliers, and all the men seemed to have enormous pointy weapons. Hell, based on the typical standard of outlandish dress  _Coulson_  was the biggest eye catcher of the group, which included Bruce, who was still shirtless and frayed- a few of the guys were topless and scratched up, which Tony felt probably didn’t constitute good court attire, but whatever. The guards immediately stepped off to form flanks on either side of the room, forming a pathway that split the guests to the right or left. Tony would have complained in their position, but from what he could tell most were too curious to care, craning their necks and nudging their neighbors when they noticed what was going on.  
  
Grins and soft smirks began to spread over unfamiliar faces, and Tony wasn’t sure if they made him want to grin back or puke. Loki was determinedly staring forward and didn’t even blink when a woman who, judging by her outfit and the fact that she’d been sitting on an honest-to-god  _throne_ , must have been his mother rose to her feet, seemingly unconsciously. Tony could hardly blame her- far as he knew this was the first time she’d seen her son in months, and he was covered in tattered clothing with blood streaking down his face and one arm still stuck out at an unnatural angle. It was hard to be sympathetic for her concern, considering Loki’d very definitely brought the pain on himself, and taken down hundreds of innocent people in the process.  
  
He felt anger, though, at the way Loki wouldn’t even look at her- he’d put her through hell, made her think he was  _dead_ , and now wouldn’t even shift his gaze as she sunk slowly back into her seat, keeping some degree of queenly dignity. Tony could have slapped him, but by then Odin had reached the base of the thrones and, after an undecipherable glance for his wife, turned around to face the now-silent court. Clint was humming under his breath and tapping his foot in time with the tune, but shut up when Natasha stomped hard on his foot and jerked her head very pointedly toward the… what? Ceremony? Trial? Whatever.  
  
Since they were still hanging in the doorway Steve and Tony led the way forward, bringing a very reluctant god of mischief along with them. Loki struggled, briefly, but cast a quick look around the room and his frustration seemed to fall flat. His shoulders drooped just so that you could only notice if you were, like Tony, gripping them, and his nervous swallow was barely audible even in the silence of the hall. Evidently their arrival wasn’t entirely unexpected, though Tony was certain Odin had been anticipating his oldest son to be the one dragging in the youngest. Well tough luck, the drug had almost completely worn off and Thor or no Thor they’d set off, which was either a terrible idea or a really good one. Tony couldn’t really tell at the moment.  
  
How did this sort of thing work on Asgard? Evidently it was excessively flashy, though Tony supposed that had a large part to do with the one under arrest being the second prince. It seemed pretty impractical to him- throw the guy in jail and be done with it, they didn’t have time for all this formality. When did they get to the food part of all this?  
  
“I need tell none of you what crimes this man, my youngest son, has committed.” Odin didn’t look away from Loki as he spoke, though Tony was sure their “audience” was nodding and muttering like he’d directed the words right at them. Tony felt like he was in one of those cheesy Harry Potter court case scenes, and he wasn’t even the one on trial here. “You have now spread your trickery and discord to the realm of Midgard, a land formed for peace- what have you to say for yourself, Loki?”

“Well, the weather is so much  _nicer_  there this time of year. I thought I’d see about a vacation home,” Loki snapped, seemingly as a reflex- it definitely didn’t carry the usual sing song amusement Tony was accustomed to. He increased his grip on the god’s shoulder, hoping that would get the point across that he should seriously  _shut up now_ , but Loki didn’t even break the flow of his words. “You should drop by one day, Allfather, I’m sure you’ll find another young relic for your  _collection_.”  
  
Tony didn’t even pretend to understand what that meant beyond the bitter hatred of the words, the raw desperation that shook Loki’s voice. That was… new. Odin’s gaze flickered briefly, but seeing as most everybody had their attention fixed on Loki, Tony thought he may have been the only one to notice. “Have you elected not to suffer us any more of your lies, then?”  
  
Loki rolled his eyes and didn’t seem quite up to meeting Odin’s again once he had. For a while he just stared at the floor in some sort of nervous silence, and Tony wondered if maybe they were supposed to say something. Odin, however, took his son’s refusal to respond as response enough, and that one eye narrowed with a sharper look than Tony had seen yet, stealing himself for whatever came next. It couldn’t be easy tossing your son in prison, no matter that he was the definition of batshit insane.  
  
“Then hear your punishment.” Loki tensed under their grip, and there was an immediate shift in the atmosphere- half the court was looking apprehensive, the other outright eager. Mummy-dearest up there looked pale, but surprisingly stalwart, all things considered. Coulson muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like  _”finally”_ , and Clint sighed in relief. The quicker they got this theatrical BS over with the better.

“Your behavior has not been fit of an Aesir- you have lied, and killed for your own gain, and dishonored the name of this realm. Therefore, you no longer bear the right of its people's image.”  
  
Loki seemed to realize what Odin was going to do before the god had even finished speaking. He made some choked noise in the back of his throat and struggled against their grip again, the words “father, please-” drowning out in the echoing thump that followed a clash of Odin’s spear against the ground. It felt like he’d fired a shockwave blast; Tony could feel the circuits going wild even without the helmet, shuddered under the force of magic that seemed to slide off his skin like some too-thick water. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, and he could see from the rest of the team’s shudders that they didn’t much like it either.  
  
A sort of startled gasp shook through the court, and for a second Tony could only wonder in disbelief how  _they_  were startled by magic, when a derisive bark of laughter cut through that possibility. A few others followed suit, and some girl (the only one wearing armor, as far as Tony could tell) had curled her lip in uncensored disgust. Tony felt his heart sink a few inches and turned to Loki to confirm his concern, unsurprised to find the god’s skin shot through with blue, clever eyes gone red all around, the only thing familiar left to him his lanky height, and pitch black hair. Loki, shaking, glanced down at an exposed patch of skin where his coat had torn and, spotting the patchwork lines tracing across his chest, uttered some sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob and drew back sharply. No longer trying to break free, but seemingly doing his best to hide his appearance from his family by shrinking back against Tony, who was still gripping the shoulder of his vulnerable side.  
  
Tony felt sick with anger, and he could hardly even have said why. He’d seen this weird blue form- a frost giant, Thor had claimed- only once before, during their first fight as a whole against the trickster. Loki had seemingly been determined to prove to Thor that they weren’t siblings, and the way both of them responded to his shift in appearance had been proof enough for Tony, with all his ignorance in the realm of Norse mythology, to spot some deep seated loathing for whatever Loki really was. Arresting him was one thing, hurting him was another- forcing him to look like something he so clearly feared to be…

But apparently Odin wasn’t finished. When he spoke again the court fell silent, but Loki still made an infrequent whimper of anger or shame, and Tony could hear Clint cursing, conflicted, under his breath. He didn’t turn around to see the rest of their expressions- it was already taking all his willpower not to gather Loki up and get him back to SHIELD, someone who would keep him contained in a proper way. Yes, he was a maniac, but he didn’t deserve to be put on display to be mocked like some circus freak.  
  
“You will be bound beneath the path of the sun’s chariot, your powers sealed and your magic stayed, and your armor returned to the forge lest you someday prove again to be worthy of it.” Odin spoke slowly, turning each item on his list into some Shakespeare-worthy revelation, anger and contempt working their way into every letter. Tony didn’t need a book on frost giant biology to tell him what was so bad about this- Loki’s trembling body was chilling even through the suit, the freaky sort of cold that  _burnt_  and usually only came off solid blocks of the strongest ice. Stick him in normal sunlight and he’d be uncomfortable, putting him out there directly below the metaphorical sun would be like sticking anyone else in a pot of boiling water. Tied up, defenseless without the armor, practically burning alive while all of Asgard could drop by and laugh whenever they felt like it-  
  
“ _Fuck_  you!”  
  
Tony was surprised how loud his own voice sounded in the halls, eerily obvious to the entire assembly, now staring at him in varying degrees of disbelief. Odin even looked taken aback, like he couldn’t believe anyone would  _dare_  speak against him in his own court, especially some upstart mortal who should probably feel privileged to be there at all.  
  
Well whoop-de-fucking-do for him. Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d been quite so mad- he was clenching his fists so hard that he had to let go of Loki’s shoulder, half convinced the suit would start cracking bone. Better yet, he stepped in front of the god, glad for the extra height of the suit that put them near the same level, as if making a barricade with his body. Tony waited for the Avengers to start muttering that he should back off and shut up, but the only definite response was for Natasha to come up on the side of Loki opposite Steve, the one Tony’d just abandoned, so that they were effectively flanking him from any Asgardian interference.  
  
Never-mind how big those weapons were, or how skilled these warriors must be at using them. Odin hadn’t quite recovered from the effect of being spoken to as he had, so Tony jumped on the chance to continue. “Who the fuck do you think you are? This is your  _son_ , not some piece of cattle for you to kick around when you’re in a bad mood. The hell kind of a father are you?!”  
  
Odin’s grip tightened on his spear to the point that Tony half expected to see it giving off sparks, and the god looked nearly as livid as he felt. “It is not your place to dictate how I run my kingdom. And you have no children, mortal, what do you dare t-“  
  
“And you  _shouldn’t_  have children! How the hell are you still so  _bad_  at this after raising kids for what, two thousand years?” The guards were starting for their weapons, and the warrior woman looked murderous, but Tony didn’t even blink twice. “With that much experience under your belt you’d think you’d be a lot less shitty at this job.”  
  
“Loki has brought punishment upon himself. He knows what his cruelties risk.” Odin snapped, making a clear effort not to blast Tony to pieces, probably as a “favor” for bringing Loki there in the first place. He felt ill with something like guilt, but anger shoved it aside almost as quickly as it had come. They hadn't been expecting  _this._  
  
Tony wanted to shout himself hoarse at Odin, at least call him out for a fool, but a moment later he was beaten to it. “That’s the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard.”  
  
An angry growl arose from one of the court at this, and the guards actually had to grab somebody before they launched themselves not at Tony, or Clint, or even Natasha- but  _Coulson_. Clean cut, supernanny-watching Coulson had stepped forward, arms folded in the perfect display of calm, to tell off the king of the gods.

“No wonder he repeat offends, what you’re proposing is nothing short of high-degree psychological and physical torture. All your so called punishment will do is get more people killed the next time your son cracks.”  
  
“What are you going on about?” Loki sounded baffled-fearful, still, and somewhat relieved to be blocked from view like he was, but he was looking from person to person like he thought they’d all gone mad. Like he couldn’t understand why anybody in their right mind would protest the sort of treatment proposed.  
  
Oh, god. What else had they  _done_  to him? Tony remembered Thor trying to convince them that his brother was not as bad as they perceived, simply wounded, in need of repair. Why had he wasted that chance to listen, to hear about what would be done to Loki if they brought him to this place? No wonder Thor’d been so reluctant to stay behind.  
  
Odin’s spear hit the ground again, and the angry voices that had welled up all around quitted down after a few seconds of muttered swears and furious growling. He still looked furious at the way they had spoken to him, but he wasn’t raising the call to arms just yet.

“You are my guests in this hall, and I will not break my oath of hospitality toward you,” Odin began in that same low voice, though Tony was beginning to realize that it was just as frightening as the yelling he’d anticipated. Probably more so, at least the volume and typical godly behavior would have been predictable, familiar even. “So long as you show the same respect to me. This is my court, my realm, and my family- your say is not welcome or needed, here.”  
  
“Sorry to say, but I couldn’t care less whether you want my say or not.” Tony replied with as much goody-two-shoes sarcasm as he could physically muster, well aware that he was probably about ten seconds from being impaled by one of Odin’s guests. Go ahead, let them try- he’d love the excuse to start letting off repulsors, though he had the feeling that if the lot of them were anything like Thor a confrontation would go terribly on the Avenger’s end. But why should that matter? He’d built the suit to stop people like the Asgardians, people who thought they could do whatever they wanted to anyone weaker or less fortunate than they were, just because they had the capability. Loki was bad, the standard definition of supervillain- but he was also very clearly too fucked up to be anything else.  
  
Tony got that. He was pretty messed up, too- his father had never threatened to chain him up under a giant ball of fire, but Howard had never been any sort of kind. Still, he’d had Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, even Obadiah had been some sort of comfort until he started sending terrorists after him. But even then Tony hadn’t been alone, and he’d gotten the Avengers to steer him along (even though he’d never admit they were any sort of beneficial, Clint would have a field day). And Loki?  
  
It didn’t look like he had anybody. The only concern Tony could see was from Odin’s wife, who didn’t look like she could oppose the punishment he’d just suggested, or at least not do so publically- free to stare at her son with something like fear (the better kind, fear  _for_  not fear  _of_ ). The rest of the court was either looking furious by Tony’s so-called rudeness, amused by the way Loki was struggling to hide himself, or curling their lip with the restrained disgust that said it was taking all of their willpower not to start some sort of racial assault. And Loki didn’t look surprised by anything but the defensive reactions of the Avengers (plus Coulson), which seemed to startle him in to a rare, wary silence. He didn’t know what they were doing, didn’t seem to  _get_  the concept of having somebody stand up in his defense.  
  
Meaning Thor never had. His brother, who spent all his time on Earth claiming Loki was good despite all else he’d shown himself to be, had never spoken against whatever tortures Loki apparently considered to be normal forms of punishment. He’d been terrified from the moment he realized where he’d be going, and there Tony’d been, thinking Loki was just scared because he knew he wouldn’t break free from an  _Asgardian_  prison, since SHIELD’s were apparently inadequate.  
  
How long had this been going on? How many times did Loki break free from some form of torture then end up suffering through another after he was caught back at his mischief? Obviously the medieval approach wasn’t working too well for them.  
  
“If something’s broken you don’t grab it and start beating more cracks into it- you keep it somewhere secure for a while while you fix the break,” Tony continued, and Odin’s expression wavered for half a second. What it wavered  _to_ , and whether that was good or bad, Tony had no idea. “His next plan’s just going to be worse, it’s  _our_  planet that’ll pay for your shitty parenting skills-“

“Are you suggesting we cannot detain a single prisoner?” Odin interrupted, and for a moment he looked so mad that even Tony had to hesitate just for a second, but Coulson didn’t do so much as skip a beat.  
  
“That’s exactly what we’re suggesting. Torture breeds desperation, it encourages the prosecuted to do whatever it takes to escape their situation, and once they have, the retaliation is far worse than the original rime.” Coulson recited, sounding as per usual like his brain was permanently tapped in to one of those SHIELD psyche-evaluation brochures they’d all pretended to read. “If you believe you can keep him imprisoned then how did he escape you before?”

“No punishment can last forever.” Clearly Asgard didn’t have life sentences, or else Odin’s retort stemmed from the acceptance that his son would always find a way free. Considering how long they lived Tony was inclined toward the former, especially when he turned and saw Loki ducking his head like all the fight had long since bled away, literally shaking with either fear or shame. It was hard to imagine how he could break out of so much as a cardboard box. “Does Midgard believe itself more capable of imprisonment?”  
  
It was a poorly veiled barb, a reminder of all the times they’d had Loki under their watch for a grand total of maybe twenty hours. “We’ll have to make do, won’t we? ‘Cause there’s no way in hell I’m letting you do that to him.”  
  
Wrong (or right, considering his goal, but he was pretty sure in terms of effective foreign affairs it was a definite wrong) thing to say. The guards stepped forward now, and each one of them found a sword or lance to their necks, just far enough off that they could move a few steps in any direction without being harmed. Tony raised his hand with a ready repulsor shot, Clint snatched up his bow, Loki shrunk back, and Steve shoved aside the nearest guard’s weapon and snapped something under his breath that Tony couldn’t quite hear. He didn’t need to. Loki’s blue skin was attracting a lot of hateful looks, and the temptation to move after the frost giant that had dared call itself their prince must have been strong.  
  
Assholes, the lot of them- they’d be better off trusting Loki into the care of a doggie kennel.  
  
"Enough!" Odin banged the tip of his spear against the ground once more, and the guards' weapons drew back, though they looked like they'd be happy to break that "oath of hospitality" if one of their group even tried to open their mouth. Clint lowered his bow but kept an arrow knocked, which was better than Tony, who didn't even drop his arm.  
  
Threatening to Allfather with a laser-cannon-blast would probably have done no good for any of them, so it was good despite Tony's anger that Coulson stepped forward, just perfectly so that any blast would pass right through his chest cavity. Bastard. Tony ducked his hand back to his side, but he kept ready to let loose a few shots if they gave him any reason. The agent looked as unemotional as ever, but Tony didn't doubt for a moment that he was just imagining the anger boiling behind shut-off eyes. "We're not looking for a fight, Allfather. We'll leave Loki in your hands, if you agree to see me in a private audience the moment this court ends."  
  
"What the hell?" Tony turned his glare on Coulson now, wondering in a furious (but insincere) sort of way if he shouldn't have just fired anyway. "They're going to burn him  _alive_ , Coulson, I'm not going to sit back and let that shit happen-"

 

 

 

"Shut up, Stark. You won't do him any good," The agent retorted just under his breath, opening his lips so lightly that Tony could barely see them move at all. Years of keeping his emotions bottled up under the pretense of logic were all that kept Tony from shouting his disapproval nonetheless.

They had two options. They could agree, however reluctantly, to let Odin cart Loki off to his "punishment" and talk bullshit politics while he was chained up somewhere being charred and treated with disgust. Or they could protest, fight against a court of gods, get their asses kick and piss of said gods, then end up talking (strained) bullshit politics while Loki was chained up somewhere, probably with his hands or legs literally burnt or burning as punishment for all the trouble the Avengers caused (seeing as Tony doubted Odin would make any sort of effort to put the blame off his son). It should have been obvious, and yet Tony still wanted to round around, snatch Loki up, and fly off back to the land of humans and somewhat logical and usually humane criminal justice systems.

He probably could have done it, too. The Avengers were looking just as mutinous as he was, though they knew by Coulson’s earlier comments that he was far from okay with the situation. Steve, who they usually laughed at when he gave his little “I don’t like bullies” lectures, looked more livid than Tony had ever seen him. Even Bruce, who never even raised his voice unless he was big and green and ripping through another pair of pants, seemed to be having a hard time restraining his tongue, and Natasha had resorted to actually covering Clint’s mouth with a firm hand to bite back any stupid comments. Coulson would have a hard time talking Odin into acting reasonably if any of them continued down the “you’re a fucked up idiot who the hell let you reproduce/adopt/kidnap/whatever” road.

Far from comforting Loki their anger on his behalf seemed to be making him nervous, and when Steve’s glare intensified as Odin nodded his acceptance of Coulson’s offer the god actually struggled to free himself from the soldier’s grip, looking weirdly frightened. Fear did not suit a frost giant. It took Tony a second to realize that Loki, apparently too loaded down with abuse to know better, thought they were going to join in on hurting him. And since it  _had_  been Steve to bend his arm like that it probably didn’t do much good for him to be caught up in his grip, surrounded by the people who’d brought him here in the first place.

Tony was about to suggest trading off handling Loki when the guards stepped forward again, waiting impatiently for them to step aside. “You’d better have a plan, Coulson,” Tony snapped, glaring down the Vikings and making no move to let them past. The others followed his example, and even shirtless, five-foot-seven Bruce was looking menacing enough that the guards didn’t attempt to force them aside just yet.

“It’s called diplomacy, Stark, and unfortunately I’m required to follow it even when I disagree with one party’s… policies,” Coulson replied in a low voice, still watching Odin with just enough of a false smile to be borderline respectful. “We need to work with them, not start a fight. I’ll get him out of there somehow.”

Right, and in the meantime Tony was supposed to step aside and let Loki be dragged off for torture. He’d expected quite a few possible punishments their trouble-making god might face on Asgard: imprisonment, sealed off magic, banishment and a mortal’s body, execution, even, had crossed his mind once or twice. All of which had seemed perfectly viable, but now that Tony saw what Odin was willing to do to his child he couldn’t help wondering if Loki needed a psychiatrist more than a warden. “You guys can’t be okay with this. Talk diplomacy  _before_  sending him off for the hounds.”

“Stop arguing, Stark,” Natasha snapped. Tony turned to glare at her, but when he did he noticed Loki looking had taken to baring his teeth at them, which was unsettling enough to baffle him out of a response.

“It’s not for  _your_  kind to interfere. Whatever you think you’ll get from me for this will do you no good- I am in nobody’s debt,” The god growled, wrenching himself free of Steve’s grip so suddenly that the soldier didn’t have time to react before Odin’s guards had moved forward to grab hold of their wayward prince.

One shoved Tony back with enough strength that he staggered, even in the armor, and had to spare a precious moment to right himself while Loki was collected into the steel-tight grips of three or four guards. “Let go, he’s not going with y-“

“Once you’ve secured your son’s punishment the team will stand down, but they will not return to Earth until we’re sure of a more… permanent solution. I’m sure you understand,” Coulson cut in, loudly but politely- not even bothering to make it seem like he was doing anything more than interrupting Tony, who knew very well that the agent was making conversation better saved for later political talks.

Odin seemed to know it too, so if he had a complaint about their prolonged presence in his realms he kept it waiting for the meeting. “Guards, escort Loki to his bindings. I will follow shortly,” He ordered, and without another word the guards started to march off, more or less dragging Loki between them.

“You’d better buy me dinner first if we’re going to get this cozy.” His mocking seemed far different from normal, tainted with fear rather than intrigue or amusement. Then again, what was to say that wasn’t normal? They didn’t know a damn thing about Loki, and until five minutes ago Tony wouldn’t even have noticed the nervous twitch of his lip that spelled panic and confusion in the middle of his jesting.

He could have been missing signs like that for months. The crazy god, the murderer, the too-cocky creep who had literally  _thrown him out a window_ , thank you very much, and done his best to do them all in whenever they came within a mile of each other’s company. Who apparently thought that trying to have him maybe  _not_  done violent bodily harm was some sort of ploy to get a favor from him in the future, or trick him into false trust. Even Tony, who was plenty used to being flattered and used by some businessman’s hopes of making it rich in the world, could at least see the truth during those rare occasions when somebody actually wanted to help him, even if he tended to shy away from actually interacting with them. Loki talked as if the idea that they were helping him of their own willingness was as far-fetched as finding Nick Fury performing the Nutcracker.

It looked like he was still shaking, and his wicked, faux smile lasted just long enough for his mother to make as if she were about to stand and help him before Loki turned back to a safe sort of impassiveness, and as he passed she slowly returned to a more dignified pose on her seat. The hall was practically silent as Loki was marched past the assembled guests, but when they were still about five feet from the doors somebody hissed “Monster” under his breath, and the crowd took up a muttering of agreement.

Loki hesitated, just half a step, as he turned over his shoulder to look with anxiety disguised as curiosity towards Odin. The Allfather, though, said nothing in response to the insult, and though his wife said his name in an astounded tone he only watched his son for a moment before the escort shoved him on his way.

Luckily the court was distracted by a sudden upheaval of voices as everyone dove into conversation of some sort, because nobody seemed to notice when Steve caught Tony around the neck (all he had free of armor) to keep him from rushing at Odin, or when Clint and Natasha both had to latch their weight around Bruce when he made a green-eyed lunge for the crowd. That bastard, that useless excuse for a god- ignoring Loki, pretending he couldn’t see that cry for help so long as it was  _his_. Fathers were supposed to  _listen_  to their kids, people like Howard were supposed to be the exceptions, the abnormalities. How  _dare_  that son of a bitch let them say those things-

Steve tightened his grip  _just_  enough to hurt and Tony was shocked back to a reality that contained more than blind hate and Odin’s impassive face. He stopped his attempts to blast forward, reluctantly, and controlled his furious breathing before Steve would let go completely, but he barely noticed. Coulson hadn’t turned around, but he could see in the sharp line of the agent’s back that he knew exactly what had almost happened. Bruce, thankfully, had also been relaxed without any sudden fits of Hulkage, probably only because he’d been stuck in that body just an hour or two ago. The Asgardian’s insult of choice obviously didn’t make it onto his approval list.

“Stop it, Tony. We can’t do anything to help him if you get yourself thrown in a dungeon,” Steve scolded under his breath, though his glare was so pronounced it completely disregarded the purpose of keeping his voice hushed at all.

Tony glared right back, and was ever glad for the suit placing them on eye level as he did so. “I can’t do anything about them locking him up, but you saw that there. What the hell kind of a father lets somebody get away with saying that?”

“I never said he was a good father. But Odin’s also the king of Asgard, and we have to be little careful here,” The Captain retorted, just as Coulson cleared his throat loudly and gave them one of his  _I hate all of you and I’m going back to working at Burger King_  faces before turning back to Odin, who had at last sunk in to his throne. Apparently this was some sign that the assembled could relax a bit further, and whispered conversation quickly graduated into formal mingling and curious looks.

Everyone seemed much more pleasant now, despite the glares fixed on them every now and then as people were free to step forward quietly to meet the “heroes”. A friendly-looking guy with blond hair and an attitude way too much like Tony’s patted them cheerfully on the back, and asked excitedly to hear the story of how they defeated Loki. Tony, far more interested in the conversation Coulson had stepped forward to initiate, told him in a low growl to go fuck off. He shrugged and walked on to Natasha, which made Tony think that maybe they didn’t know the gravity of how bad the word was to most Midgardians- which would suck, really, considering all his best angry rants involved saying “fuck” or some variation at least three times. He hoped to at least watch the pretty-boy blond get a good kick to the groin, but Natasha only glared viciously until he slunk away with a half-dignified shrug of defeat.

Coulson and Odin's silent discussion lasted about two minutes, during which Tony was barred multiple times from running either to Odin or out the door in pursuit of Loki, before that staff hit the ground another few times. “The halls must be cleared for tonight’s feast. These mortal warriors have brought us cause for celebration- and my son shall have returned by this point,” He declared, and Tony had to literally bite his tongue until he tasted blood to start from screaming  _two, you have_ two  _sons_.

Fine. Whatever. He’d play ball with Odin for now, because he was pretty sure further argument would end in disaster for Loki, but he wasn’t going to sit back and act like none of this was a problem. “Celebrate on your own, I’m not going anywhere near some feast of  _yours_.”  
  
Obviously this was another serious breach of etiquette. Tony remembered something about hospitality being a big deal in all these pagan religions, which might explain the furious glares he was getting and the hissed insults that he happily ignored. Loki’s mom, he noticed, looked like she might smile as she watched him, oddly calculating in a way that made him shift uncomfortably. Coulson sighed and rolled his eyes, but it was a credit to how poorly he thought of the court that he didn’t cut over Tony and say that yes, they’d all be going, whether willingly or not. Odin himself didn’t seem at all surprised by this, though he looked disappointed in a way that just made Tony even angrier. How could he still think he was the one in the  _right_  here?

“My son thinks very highly of you, Man of Iron,” He began, and it didn’t come as a surprise in the slightest that Thor was somehow in contact with his father even while he was fighting for their cause on Earth. “Your presence would be missed.”  
  
For some reason that felt more like a threat than anything else Odin had said so far, more dangerous than having a group of spears pressed to his neck. Tony, his mind already on finding wherever Loki was held captive and at least watching to make sure nobody bothered him while Coulson worked out a more proper punishment, couldn’t have cared less, and only rolled his eyes as visibly as he could. “So miss it. I’m not going to sit around and listen to you guys tell stories about all the other shit you’ve put him through, and I sure as  _hell_  am not going to recount any “heroic tales” of capturing him. If I had it my way I’d go back and kick myself for ever thinking it would be a good idea to trust him with you.”  
  
And with that little speech (not the best he could have done, but the most he could coherently manage through rage that built endlessly on itself) Tony raised one hand in a rude gesture that probably wouldn’t bridge the culture gap and turned on his heel to stalk out of the courtroom. Somehow, thankfully, nobody tried to stop him, and a second set of footsteps told him Bruce (nobody but Bruce walked like that, the nervous but heavy thud that Tony daily pretended he hadn’t heard pacing sleeplessly during the dimmest hours of the night) had followed. Still, he didn’t turn around to check and make sure, but waited for the door to slam shut before cutting the next stretch of land at a run. The castle was high up enough that Tony got a good view of Asgard spread out on all sides when he decided to look for it, but there wasn’t even a glimpse of Loki or the guard that had dragged him out. They’d probably gone off with magic. Tony was really beginning to hate that stuff.  
  
“I’m not really in the mood to talk right now,” He snapped, because he hadn’t heard Bruce’s footsteps walking on yet, and knew the man was probably just about ten feet behind him. This was no good, Loki was probably being taken somewhere to wait in a panic while Odin took his time chatting away with Coulson, then he’d come out here and deal with the magical bindings, watch them drag his son off to burn up under the sun…  
  
“Neither am I. I just needed an excuse to leave. Neither of us should be in too much trouble this way,” Bruce replied, still without moving. Probably didn’t know where to go and Tony, now that he thought about it, had no clue either. And dammit he was  _hungry_. Stupid pride. “We can’t fight them you know. Coulson’ll get him out of it.”  
  
“Eventually. He doesn’t want to risk offending that jackass any more than we already have,” Tony growled, kicking a pillar out of annoyance and only remembering he was in his suit when the stone chipped under the blow. Whoops. “Watch me get a lecture even though he lost his temper too.”

Granted Coulson had been a bit more respectful about his “advice”, but Tony figured the whole respect thing came when you proved that you earned it, not with a fancy title and a golden kingdom. Who could do that to their own son, adopted or not? ‘Misunderstood’ wasn’t the half of it- Loki was so used to being abused that Tony had a sickening suspicion that he created trouble half the time because he didn’t understand going so long without punishment. He’d been like that himself for a while, breaking something or skipping out on some business deal, or skiving off on a debriefing all because people were treating him better than he thought they should. But he was used to being yelled at or having people roll their eyes at him, not shoved into a torture chamber without a single spoken word on his behalf.  
  
Even from Thor. Tony clenched his fists and kicked the pillar again out of spite, knowing that hungry or not it was a good thing he’d decided to skip out on the upcoming dinner- if he saw the missing Avenger before he’d had time to cool off, before Loki was free… He’d probably get his head beaten in, actually, but he’d make an attempt at showing off his anger anyway.  
  
“D’you think this place has a library?” Tony wondered, and Bruce-who’d wandered aimlessly to stare at some flowers that looked a lot like the stuff on Earth- turned to him without even a hint of surprise for his sudden speech. It took a lot to startle him. “With Earth books. Or histories. Or whatever they’d call our mythology.”  
  
“Probably. If there was a culture out there writing stories about the humans I’d want to see what they came up with too.” He glanced down at his body-torn pants, no shoes, no shirt, covered in dirt and giant lizard blood- and grimaced with just enough of a curl to his lip to actually constitute emotion. “I’m going to find out where we’re staying and clean up. I’m sure the queen will tell you where to find a book.”  
  
Tony didn’t watch Bruce go, even with his ears, and only turned at the suggestion and paced his way back toward the castle.

Definitely wasn’t going in through the entrance hall, but if there was a back door, some hallway that led in from the inside… It took about five minutes of searching and a few snapped threats toward a passing servant boy, but eventually he located and cut through the back entrance of Odin’s outlandish court. It was empty, even of the clichéd servants he’d half expected to be rushing about with little platters full of food or goblets loaded with alcohol. Not that Tony wanted to imagine the Asgardians drunk.  
  
Well. Flaw number one in the plan, he had no idea how he was supposed to get to Loki’s mom when she was in a courthouse loaded to the brim with people he wanted desperately to strangle. And flaw number two in the plan being that he didn’t really  _have_  a plan. He just couldn’t stand to sit around and celebrate or even waste his time on a walk right now, when Loki’s fearful face had been successfully engrained into his mind. Tony Stark turning down the chance to drink and party with the  _gods_. The tabloids would die of shock.  
  
Tony had only wandered aimlessly for about thirty seconds before a feminine cough caught his attention, and luckily the gender was enough to keep his repulsors flat by his side when he spun around to face the speaker. Not the queen, but a stunningly beautiful woman with the same not-quite-crafty look, and young enough in appearance that Tony had to force himself to remember that she was probably thousands of years out of his league. “The lady Frigga would like to apologize for failing to meet you in person, the Allfather enjoys her presence when he addresses the court.”  
  
Her eyes were bright, curious, and the little bow she gave was eerily reminiscent of the way Pepper smiled when she was about to slaughter somebody’s political career. “Why does ‘your lady’ want to meet me at all?”

 

 

 

“She said you would require a guide.”

“I need a library, but if a guide can help me get that then I’ll take that too. You got a name?”

“Fulla. My lady would also like to thank you for the help, and says you may read what you like for her gratitude.” The attendant (lady in waiting? Maid? Whatever they were called) bowed him down the hall and Tony, more than used to overbearing butlers and the like, didn’t hesitate more than a second before heading down the indicated path.

Fulla followed, and Tony had to fight back the urge to take a nervous step to the side when they were finally matching pace. “What help?”

The girl, goddess, smiled impassively but said nothing else, and Tony was left to follow her in bemused (and very rare, she should be honored, really) silence; feeling that Frigga, just like Loki, probably had a better run of him than she had any right to.

Tony had expected some grand library, towering to the tip of the ceiling with books upon books, loaded down with magnificent content and beautiful drawings, swirling runes he couldn’t understand- but the room Fulla led him to was quite small, and had about as many texts as a typical high school English class. They were, admittedly, beautiful books, and most of them extremely thick, but it looked like Asgard was more interested in fighting than reading. Or else they didn’t need words to call up knowledge, hadn’t Tony read something once about a magical pool of memory? Whatever, if he was lucky he’d find out in a few minutes.

“Does anybody keep records, here? Some history book? Little kid’s stories of “oh hey, look how stupid the humans are, they think we dress like woman to get our shit back”?” Tony glanced at Fulla, who seemed entirely unoffended by the remark, which was probably a real stroke of luck. Probably had something to do with being dressed like a woman  _all_  the time.

“We do have historical scribes, but I believe what you’re looking for is more of a documentation, really. The Allfather worked a deal with an elf to put it together- the bindings are enchanted so that each major event in Asgard is captured on page as it occurs,” She explained helpfully, crossing the room with the surety of someone who’d browsed these shelves many times before, and tip-toed to tap her finger against the corner of a particularly thin book. Tony figured it couldn’t have been more than a hundred pages. “You must be… the third mortal to see this.”

Was that permission? Tony figured it must be, so he reached out and drew the book off its shelf- it was heavy, way too heavy, and he had to catch it in both hands to prevent it tumbling to the floor. Fulla smiled slightly, but didn’t comment as he lugged the thing over to a desk and dumped it down, the cover flipping open as a few pages half-turned tiredly. Most of which seemed to contain all pictures and no text. Huh. “Why’m I allowed to look at this?”

“The Queen permits it,” Fulla said simply.

Well, he’d acted on stupider bases than that before. Tony turned his attention toward the book and flipped a few pages, impressed despite himself by the fluidity of the pictures. It was like he was seeing stills from a movie, or rather looking through a window into a room whose occupants were all frozen perfectly in time. How was he supposed to find his way through this thing? It looked like it was just reviewing the Norse creation myths, in typically bloody detail, and a few archetypical images of a dozen gods and about twice that number of goddesses. Guess the guys were outnumbered here, even if he’d only seen the one girl in actual armor.

All well and good, but he didn’t give a damn about any of it at the moment. He wanted to see Loki’s punishments or misfortunes, past examples of the torture he’d grown so used to- and with the thought came a flurry of pages as the book seemed to expand, flipping a few thousand years in to show him what he’d requested. Convenient. Not quite as cool as JARVIS, but pretty good for a fancy old book. Loki didn’t look too old in this picture, the equivalent of a teenager or a very young adult, but he was talking to the court like that didn’t matter, which it probably didn’t. Tony was a prime example of that.

He continued on through the intricate photographs, watching as Loki was forced into bearing a  _horse_  and then had the kid snatched away from him, as his children were thrown into Nifleheim, or the ocean, or tricked and chained up in a cave somewhere, with a sword stuck in their mouth to stop their howling. Tony felt his stomach churn when he saw the blood pouring out of the wolf’s mouth despite the fact that… well… it was a  _wolf_  for god’s sake- but it was still Loki’s son, strange as that was to think about. Fulla was watching him curiously and didn’t seem dissuaded at all when he caught her looking and winked very pointedly, so Tony did his best to ignore her and kept scrolling, more pages appearing and filling in the book as he went along. No wonder it had been so heavy. Stupid magic, refusing to even pretend it wanted to obey the laws of physics.

The next few pages ended with Loki shoved against the ground, a dwarf bent over him with a needle in hand that tore through the trickster’s lips- and it was  _Thor_  keeping him there. Thor, who was supposed to care about Loki more than any of them did- and Odin was just watching it all happen, even Frigga wasn’t protesting, like the situation was perfectly normal, just good  _fun_. He was beginning to wish his curiosity hadn’t gotten the better of him, but he went along anyway and felt some of that old dislike boil up as he watched Loki’s hand guide a mistletoe branch through the chest of his brother (Tony didn’t even question how he knew that without a single name or explanatory word, he figured it was better for his mental well-being not to ask questions).

But it vanished as quickly as it had come. Tony turned the pages with a growing unease until at least his hands just wouldn’t  _move_ , and he couldn’t quite tear his eyes away from the image before him, couldn’t stop watching the wolf that had once been a child tearing into his brother, spilling blood so vivid across the pages that Tony actually reached out to touch it, just to make sure. And Loki… there were tears streaming down his face as he apparently fought, mouth wide with a plea the pages left silent, against captors that Tony half-recognized in a way that told him they’d been in the hall, watching, maybe even remembering the same scene he was reading now. The punishment for killing Odin’s son had encompassed his grandchildren of sorts, apparently, and even without sound or written word Tony could hear the little boy screaming in pain, crying for his father, the wolf snarling and ripping and Loki begging throughout it all…

Oh, jeez, he really  _was_  going to be sick. Tony slammed the book shut, not caring how weak he felt for being unable to go on looking, and realized only when Fulla reached out to grab the text that he was shaking so hard with anger that the table his hands were planted on trembled as a result. “Why him?” Tony demanded at last, barely recognizing his own voice. It was taking a tremendous effort not to turn tail and sprint back to the court, grab Odin and break whatever he could before the god or his companions tore Tony apart. Screw the consequences- how could they  _do_  those things? No wonder Loki had been startled, nobody had defended him or his children throughout all that, why should he expect them to suddenly change heart now, for something far less cruel?

“Loki always managed to anger the others most with his constant tricks, no matter what was done to prevent them.” Fulla glanced pointedly down at the book and Tony looked up at last to glare at her. She didn’t look like she agreed with the treatment he’d received, but she almost seemed to  _understand_  it, and that was nearly as bad.

 

 

“Your Queen’s one crafty lady,” Tony snapped, bitterly conceding that he knew now why she’d sent her messenger to thank him for his help. There was no way after seeing what he just had that he could afford to sit back and let Coulson play the diplomat- the Asgardians didn’t know anything but torture for their punishments, they wouldn’t suddenly gain a mortal’s ethics just because some guy in a suit read them a few quotes on human (or... well, whatever) rights. If Loki was going to get out of all this without falling further into insanity then somebody would have to get him free, quickly, and Tony already had the perfect volunteer.

Fulla smiled and nodded, though at this point Tony honestly couldn’t tell whether she was agreeing to the comment or the mental resolution- these Asgard girls were already freaking him out. “She is the Queen, after all. Now, Mr. Stark, let me show you to your quarters.”

\-------

An hour or two later Tony was pacing the golden confines of some rooms that were almost too outlandish even for him, determinedly using Odin’s freaky magic book to determine how, exactly, one went about breaking gods out of prison. Fulla’d told him nothing obvious-probably thanks to that golden-eyed guy Tony’d seen on the bridge who could apparently see  _everything_ \- but made it very clear that if Tony ever got himself hurt the healer, Eir, would ensure he was unbothered until she saw him to full health. In other words, the most pseudo-obvious way of saying that once Tony got Loki into this healer’s hands, the trickster would be safe from his father’s rage for a little while.

Yeah, easier said than done. He didn’t even know where Loki  _was_ , how was he supposed to break him out? Not to mention he probably had a guard and-Tony clenched his fists so hard here that the pages of the book crinkled and then smoothed themselves over in response- an audience at all times. The book might be able to tell him, seeing as all of Loki’s past punishments had counted as “major events”, but Tony couldn’t bear to see himself dragging the trickster to his judgment, grinning and waving at the crowd. They’d actually been worried on the way up here that Odin would go too easy on his youngest son, that he wouldn’t get a proper reprimand for the destruction he’d caused on Earth. And, well, he  _wasn’t_  getting a proper punishment, now was he?

Back to business. Flipping open the book with Eir on mind brought him right to her image- one of nine woman in the picture, and Tony knew immediately which she was, again without anything physical to prompt the knowledge. Freaky book. She was pretty, too, but not like Fulla was. Not beautiful, just… nice to look at, comforting, the sort of face Tony figured he’d want to see first thing when he woke up after taking on some horrible injury. Here she was patching up Thor, who seemed to be unconscious with a piece of flint piercing his forehead, then stopping the blood flow of a now one-armed man who Tony couldn’t feel much pity for, seeing as he’d just read about the wolf that chomped it off. And there, applying some balm to Loki’s bloody lips, looking soothing though Tony couldn’t imagine they were too fond of each other.

Whatever, she would do- one look at the woman told Tony that if one of the gods tried to pull Loki back to his prison while he was in her care they’d be nursing their injuries all on their own for a few weeks (or however long immortal’s grudges lasted).

She could fix up his broken arm (Tony knew they wouldn’t have bothered to give it a splint, or any sort of cast) and heal whatever burns he got, but he’d have to bring Loki water. He knew they had the non-salty stuff, considering they’d just filled a tub with it when he complained about sweat and blood, so no worries about an all-alcohol menu when he got down to collecting Loki’s drink. The problem was, though, that he couldn’t fly around with a cup, and he didn’t typically keep empty bottles in his suit. The closest thing lying around was a saddle bag, which would involve robbing the stables (though he was sure Loki wouldn’t care about the leathery taste). Well, he’d done stupider things, hadn’t he?

So about ten minutes later he was being led around by a very nervous-looking stable boy, who couldn’t quite seem to grasp why this random human had demanded he be led off to look at their  _”Manly steeds, or whatever the hell they’re called”_. Asgard was dark by now, which Tony would have considered a relief if he wasn’t sure the magic of wherever Loki was being held blazed bright even during the night. They hardly passed anybody on the way, everyone either at home or at the feast Tony was still boycotting, and the darkness had such a heavy aspect to it that he couldn’t really blame the kid for bolting off as soon as he was given permission.

Or else he’d just been eager to get away from Tony, who’d been doing his very best to make the conversation as uncomfortable as possible, which was perfectly fine too. He’d never been in a proper stables before, so he had no idea where he was supposed to look in this place, but he figured the horses weren’t going to rat him out if he just started a manual search. The place was huge, like some Asgardian version of a parking garage, and it didn’t take him long to realize that looking for a supply cupboard was doing no good.

“All right, boy, I need a saddlebag. Go. Hunt. Run into the wind. Show your gallantry,” Tony demanded at last, making a shooing motion at one stationary horse who probably couldn’t have gone much of anywhere in that confinement of his. The thing just stared at him and hesitated in its grain chewing for about two seconds then continued on as if no crazy humans had interrupted it at all.

Tony muttered a curse and a few unpleasant words about the equine population under his breath then turned sharply away, startled a moment later by a feminine chuckle. Dammit, why did people have to keep sneaking up on him today? With great difficulty he kept his reactors low and deactivated when he turned sharply, spotting a woman at the furthest end of the stables who he hadn’t noticed in his determination to scour the equipment. Great, Tony- you’re definitely cut out for the whole search-and-rescue thing.

Any annoyance at his lack of stealth skills, however, immediately dissipated when he realized just who the woman was. “Not sending one of your maids this time?” Tony wondered, passing many a horse by as he made his way across dirt and stray bits of straw, warily refusing to look away from the Queen-bee over there. “Or else this is a happy coincidence.”

Frigga, whose name had come up in that handy-dandy-creepy-ass book, smiled and nodded, turning her attention back to the animal that had just whinnied for her attention. “I prefer to be discreet in matters like this. My son doesn’t need the attention our involvement would bring if we were found out,” She explained calmly. It was the first time he’d heard her voice, and Tony couldn’t quite catch a read on whether or not he liked it.

Still, she wanted to help, even if she wouldn’t do it when it mattered. Loki hated the Avengers and he definitely didn’t trust them, but he might have believed he was worth defending if she were the one to do it. “Guess it’s a lucky chance then. I need a saddlebag, and you need to converse with horses. Or whatever you were doing.”

“I was speaking with my grandson, though I suppose I can understand the confusion,” She replied idly, and the horse seemed to catch sight of Tony’s momentary confusion and tossed its head appreciatively. No, not “its”-his. Sleipnir, Loki’s child, he’d just read up on that today, hadn’t he? “I didn’t think you rode.”

Tony was about to respond that yeah, of course he rode horses, the suit was just for decoration, but quickly realized that there weren’t many other plausible reasons to sneak out in search of a saddlebag. If Heimdall was watching (and hadn’t already figured out exactly what Tony was doing) then it was probably better to keep up some feasible excuse. “Yeah, sure, why not. Horses are cool, why wouldn’t I want something with a mind of its own bobbing between my legs? Well, something’s back anyway, there are a few parts of the human anatomy I’m willing to negotiate for.”

Frigga rolled her eyes, surprisingly unperturbed despite his crude comments. “Maybe if you’re a little friendlier Sleipnir will let you borrow his tack.” Tack, code word for horse equipment, right? Not exactly the sort of jargon Tony was familiar with. “What do you say?”

The horse gave a derisive snort and seemed to glare at Tony, which he figured was a very definite ‘no’. Well, whatever, he didn’t have time for this- he stalked the rest of the way up to stand beside Frigga and glared right back at Sleipnir, who he just realized was a good foot or more taller than him. God damn, the thing was probably big enough for  _Hulk_  to ride. “Hey pal, play nice. I’ve got an appointment with your mommy and it wouldn’t be nice to keep him waiting.”

Okay, that was the weirdest combination of pronouns he’d ever used. Sleipnir tossed his head furiously at mention of Loki and, apparently stirred up by what Tony realized could have been taken as a threat toward the god, reared back like it was going to bash its four front hooves against Tony’s currently helmet-less head.  _Four_ front hooves. Tony jumped back, raising a repulsor-less arm on instinct, Frigga said  _”Sleipnir!”_  in a very scolding tone and the horse returned without any infliction of bodily harm to the ground and began to scrape his many hooves against the dirt, huffing out angry gusts of air.

For a second Tony wanted to join in on the scolding and point out that it wasn’t very nice to attempt to kill strangers, but then he thought back on that book and felt his heart sink another few inches. Of course Loki was a sensitive subject- the poor horse was probably tired of seeing his mother in pain. “Whoa, octo-horse. Down boy. I need the bag to help him, it’s not like I’m going to smother him with it or something.”

“Oh hush, he’s no brasher than Loki,” Frigga retorted calmly, as if Sleipnir’s snort in response had been some sort of coherent word. “You won’t find him without a guide you know. No human can get to where he is alone.”

Tony tried to tell himself he was imagining the pain and worry in her voice, and failed miserably to believe it. “I’m not exactly popular up in that castle, hun, and I can’t see your pals agreeing to help me out.” What had happened to subtlety? If Heimdall was listening in now Tony was so screwed, but he found it hard to care.

“The court are far from being the only non-humans on Asgard.” Frigga rose her hand again to pat the front of Sleipnir’s snout, encouraging the horse to brush his nose happily against her palm.

“Obviously.” This entire place was both not human and inhumane, but Tony doubted the giant monsters would be all too willing to help him out either. Well, at least the giant monsters who were free- he could think of a few who might be willing but unable to give him a hand. Unless… Wait… Oh fuck. “He’s  _Odin’s_.”

“Only my husband and I can unhook his harness so that he can be ridden, but Sleipnir is not  _property,_ ” Frigga replied defensively, turning a semi-scolding look on Tony that, motherless as he was, he hadn't known since childhood. It was… kind of nice, actually, in the weirdest way. “Thor tells me you’re very intelligent for a mortal. If that’s the case, then you know what to do.”

Yeah, Tony knew, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He’d never expected this to be risk-free, or easy, or even plausible, really, but he had to have limits somewhere. And he did, really, they were just limits he chose to ignore, and the longer he pretended to follow them the longer Loki had to burn.

Oh,  _fuck_. He was going to steal Odin’s horse.

Well, technically steal, anyway- did it count when Frigga was an accomplice, considering she was the guy’s wife? Yeah, yeah it definitely did. If Odin found out, or if Heimdall took a look at them, Tony’d end up dead or imprisoned (probably in no better way than Loki) in about ten seconds flat, Coulson would never be able to finish his negotiation, Pepper’d have a panic attack, Steve would probably break  _him_  out and cause some even bigger shit storm with Asgard…  
  
And yet Tony didn’t give a damn. His suit couldn’t get energy in this place and he couldn’t fly off just the reactor’s charge forever, not without stopping his heart- he’d need some way to get to Loki, and Sleipnir would be the best choice for that. The horse had eight legs for god’s sake, he was Odin’s personal ride and he’d definitely get them back to the healing chambers before the all daddy’s troops showed up and totally kicked Tony’s ass.

Still, it’d probably be a good idea to book the last half mile or whatever on foot. You know, just in case.  
  
“Any way you can guarantee this Heimdall guy isn’t keeping an extremely freaky golden eye on me?” Tony wondered at last, feeling oddly glad despite himself that the comment made Frigga smile with either gratitude or relief. Sleipnir just whinnied again in some equine mockery of a scoff- his grandmother might have had a few nervous doubts that he would agree, but the horse didn’t. Great. The queen was bad enough, did Loki’s entire family have some gene that made them adept at knowing Tony way better than they should?

“Heimdall is sworn to obey Odin. My husband knows to ensure Sleipnir is not spied on when he is let out.” Tony wasn’t at all surprised that Frigga could control the gatekeeper through her husband- she was definitely the sort of wife who had the run of the family wherever possible. Shame that tenacity didn’t extend to keeping her son free from torture in the first place. “Odin knows none on Asgard would dare try to take him.”  
  
Yeah, great, so it was left to Tony to play the idiot’s role. At least he didn’t have to worry about the horse himself- he was sure half the threat behind stealing Sleipnir lay in how huge and heavy he was built, eight legs all capable of cracking a head open. “Great. So untie that sucker and let’s get on with this, Loki’s probably already got heat stroke by now-“  
  
“It is too soon," Frigga interrupted him wearily, and the smile that had followed his consent faded slightly, prompting Sleipnir to nudge her shoulder in some form of equine comfort. “My son is not- not well liked anymore. There will still be those who wish to watch his punishment.”  
  
Bitter, angry, harsher than he’d have thought her voice capable of becoming, and not for the first time Tony wondered whether or not it was the ladies of the court to fear more here than those men who brandished axes and swords. “How’m I supposed to know when he doesn’t have an audience? I haven’t got time for them to get bored of the show, Queenie. The longer Loki’s trapped the worse he’ll be when I get to him.” Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.  
  
“After Thor sees him.” Okay, good, that should have been good, Thor was bound to be back within the hour if he hadn’t returned already- so why was Frigga still looking so grim? “None will interrupt him when he seeks his brother, if you time your departure correctly there will be no-one to see you.”  
  
“How long will that be, exactly?” Thor was the most over-protective brother Tony had ever seen, his ideas of punishment were fucked up to no end but he would at least want to drop in and speak with or check on Loki quickly. Right? Sure, Odin would probably drag him off to that big feast that Tony was currently ignoring, and knowing the way these guys ate and drank that could take a while, but with any luck Tony’d be horse-robbing by morning.  
  
Or not, judging by Frigga’s expression. “The last time Loki was imprisoned Thor waited nearly a week before speaking to him. This is different, so he may do so sooner, but he never attends him immediately.”

A  _week_? Not for the first time that day Tony felt his respect for Thor plummet, though this time the damage repaired itself with a little rational thought. Thor cared about Loki, even if he didn’t seem to  _get_  that torture was an improper solution, and just because he accepted and even approved of Odin’s punishments didn’t mean the thunder god had to like them. Probably took time to prepare yourself for that sort of conversation- Tony knew he’d be too scared to confront somebody he loved while they were chained up and hurting. “He’d better be there in three days, or I’m fighting through the crowd. Don’t care how I have to do it.”

That got another smile, this one holding a hint of the mischief Loki showed so well. “Three days, then. In the meantime he’ll need water, and I doubt you’re capable of riding a horse bareback, so let’s see to finding you a teacher.”

\-----

The next two days were surprisingly busy- Tony doubted he’d have been able to accomplish his intended rescue mission even without that audience if he’d attempted a crack at it before all the preparation Frigga and her attendants guided him through.

For one thing, he’d never ridden a horse before, not properly, and he’d definitely never had to ride  _bareback_ on a thing with eight legs. Sleipnir reacted to verbal commands, but the horse was so big that whenever he took off at a real run Tony was falling off after about two minutes, not to mention when they tried showing him how to jump. And it wasn’t like they could practice constantly, either (for which Tony’s muscles were grateful), since they only really had any access to Sleipnir when he was supposedly off trotting through the fields, safe from Heimdall’s watch. Frigga made things a bit easier, at least, by dragging Odin off for some talk or whatever whenever she thought he might try to go visit his grandson.  
  
And Thor wasn’t helping, either. Tony hadn’t felt safe trusting him with the rescue mission plan- he hadn’t even told the other Avengers, who seemed determined not to mention Loki at all except to ask Coulson how his most recent “conference” with Odin had gone- and Thor, therefore, had no idea that he was interrupting Tony’s scheming whenever he came by to insist on giving them a tour, or having him spar with some group called the Warriors Three, or tried to take them all to go on some hunt or adventure or journey through yonder hills, verily and pride for your fathers, or something. This was probably the Asgardian equivalent of trying to be a good host, but all it did was piss Tony off because the guy didn’t even seem to care that his  _brother_  was chained and burning somewhere.  
  
(Tony didn’t think, of course, why Thor never mentioned it, was too mad to stop and remember that Thor usually never shut up about Loki, and didn’t bother to realize that maybe Thor was just as nervous to trust  _them_  with the Trickster as Tony was to trust  _him_.)  
  
The only thing that went right, really, was getting the supplies he’d need. Water? No problem, the servants brought it to him whenever he asked, though he still didn’t know where they were getting it from since he hadn’t seen a single non-salt body of the stuff up here. A knife to cut the ropes? (Because there was no way in hell he’d risk the repulsors, he might destroy Loki’s hands.) Again, easy, just had to turn to Thor halfway through dinner, hold one up that looked as lethal as a sword, and say hey, mind if I have this? The god, for some reason, said yes, of course, and reminded him sagely that it was cups or plates, not silverware, that you crashed to the ground when requesting more of a meal.  
  
Tony’d just stared at him for a moment, bemused, nodded slowly, and pocketed the knife.  
  
It was probably a good thing, though his sore muscles didn’t agree, that Thor left to see Loki the same night that Tony got a hang of cantering around on Sleipnir’s back.

It was a routine habit already to drop by Coulson’s room whenever he happened past it, just in case the agent was inside and not off playing the diplomat, and as usual he wasn’t alone in his visit. This time Natasha and Steve had both made it there already, talking in typically hushed voices to their supervisor of sorts, who was looking annoyed by whatever they were asking. Also typical-they were all too curious for their own goods- but not so familiar was the tight line of Steve’s back, the clench of his hands, arms, all the way up to his shoulders and down his back. Like every part of him was trying his best not to lash out and hit the nearest wall.  
  
Normally Tony’d make some quip about Steve needing some chocolate and a chick flick, stat, but all he could feel was a cold flare of dread, and for once no jokes came to mind. Wow, this place really fucked up his personality quirks, didn’t it? “The hell happened? Where’s the big guy?”  
  
None of them jumped, or even turned in surprise- freaking SHIELD with its freaking ninja agents. “Thor’s left to speak with Laufeyson,” Coulson explained calmly, which Tony supposed the others  _could_  see as a bad thing but all he could think was good, very good, until the man continued. “And Odin’s agreed to join forces with Midgard in event of another threat from any realm but our own-”  
  
“Well, hey, then break out the champagne-personally I don’t see the big deal, seems to be their fault we’re in trouble half the time anyway, but whatever. Hey, do they even  _have_  champagne in this place-?”  
  
“- _if_ we agree to refrain from involvement in the Asgardian justice system.”  
  
Tony froze, staring at Coulson in search of some hint of ha-ha, just joking, behind that bitter tone- but he just shook his head, and Natasha was gritting her teeth so hard he could almost hear it, and Steve slammed his fist against the wall at last and swore something that definitely wouldn’t have made it into his comic books. “The  _hell_?! And you agreed to that? What the  _fuck_ , Coulson- you’re signing Earth’s death warrant, that bastard’s going to drive his son off the deep end and he’ll  _know_  we let it happen.” Not like Loki was sane enough to recognize this as a bad thing, but he was bound to resent, on some level, their indirect involvement.  
  
No, not so indirect- they’d brought him here, hadn’t they?

“I’m not “letting” him do anything, Stark,” Coulson retorted sharply, but Tony wasn’t in the mood to listen to him defend his reasoning, to back up some bullshit explanation about how it would take time to make Odin agree, they had to be  _careful_ , blah blah blah.  
  
“You’d better get that guy to see sense tonight, Coulson, because I’m not going to work with anybody who would put someone through what Loki’s lived with,” Tony snapped, his intention to turn and stalk out of the room ruined when Steve’s hand caught his shoulder, just strong enough to force him to still. “Let go, Rogers.”  
  
“You think any of us like this?” Steve snapped, that Cap voice of his slipping through in his anger, which only made Tony bristle more. He did  _not_  take well to commands. “Whatever you’re planning can wait, if you do anything now you’ll just ruin our chances- you think they’ll have a change of heart just because you busted him out once?”  
  
“I think it’s my fault he’s here, and if I can do anything about that then you can be damn sure I will,” Tony snarled in response, giving such a violent tug that Steve’s grip (already a little off balance, the shoulder wasn’t the most steady place to grab) released him, and for a second he thought the super-soldier might snatch him again, or even hit him.  
  
But Steve made no more move, and though Coulson and Natasha looked like they were going to give him the lecture from hell, none of them seemed to have it in them to actively try and stop him. Was this safe? Saving Loki now would be directly defying terms Odin had set up, which would do more diplomatic harm than just nullify some agreement to help each other out that really didn’t make much of a difference. They’d handled themselves against everything thrown at them before, why should the future be any different?

But Tony was going to flip Odin a bird he could recognize, and that wouldn’t end well for any of them. What Steve said made sense, as soon as Loki was healed up and out of Eir’s care what was to say Odin didn’t just grab him and force him into some even worse form of torture? Absolutely nothing, but damn if he wasn’t going to try anyway. In the end it was, oddly enough, imaging Sleipnir trotting free (Frigga would have left him out, would know where her oldest son had gone) and waiting for the human who couldn’t quite get a hang of him to help him save his mother, that made Tony turn on his heel and leave the room with as much dignity as possible.  
  
They didn’t think he could do it. Well, Steve did, maybe, but neither Natasha or Coulson had tried to stop him- they couldn’t risk what would happen if he succeeded, they thought he was going to fuck up and cause a little more trouble to negotiate out of harm’s way, but no big deal. They didn’t know he had Frigga and the horse-of-wonders on his side, and he couldn’t wait to throw it in their faces when he had Loki safely out of harm’s way.

As expected, Sleipnir was waiting in the usual field they’d practiced in, and when Tony approached (about twenty minutes after leaving Coulson’s room, this place was not easy to get to, especially when you were trying to go unnoticed) snorted angrily and stamped his hoof, digging up the ground underneath it. “Yeah, yeah, I’m know I’m late. Calm your t-… not finishing that sentence. You know where to go?”  
  
Sleipnir made that almost-a-scoff sound again and Tony could have sworn he saw the horse roll his eyes, which he took as a very definite yes. Tall as the horse was Tony stood no hope of mounting from the ground, so they searched for a moment until they found the usual half-dead tree stump he’d used so far, and even with its help Sleipnir had to bend his eight knees in a way that could not have been comfortable (or very typical of horsey behavior) for Tony to pull his way up.  
  
God, he hated this. He’d take the suit any day, or at the very least a motorcycle, over being carried around by something living, and huge, and in complete control. Sleipnir, of course, was probably faster than any of the above, but that just made it worse when he shot off like a gun, forced Tony to wrap his arms around his neck just to not fall off and crack his neck in two.  
  
Definitely not a proper riding position, but at least he’d learned enough to stay  _on_  even when Sleipnir galloped and jumped and oh my god let me  _off this thing_.  
  
Apparently being able to finally rescue his mommy had given the horse a new boost he’d never shown during practice- Tony couldn’t hear, though he was sure he’d shouted in surprise at least once, and had to turn his head or shut his eyes to protect them from the onslaught of wind. Nothing alive should be able to go this fast, and probably for the first time Tony really appreciated that Sleipnir showed a god’s blood as well as a beast’s. Not really a comforting fact, and Tony spent the next half hour cursing in an almost non-stop torrent, barely able to recognize how much land they were covering, or wonder  _how_  they were getting through some of these places. Sleipnir was running distance rather than track, seeming to jump from place to place when an obstacle should have been impossible to cross.

No wonder Frigga’d told him no human could get to Loki- Asgard was apparently a lot more than golden buildings, though he couldn’t imagine where they were  _hiding_  all this land.  
  
When Sleipnir skidded to a stop Tony nearly went flying over his head, but thanks to the grip he’d maintained (ow ow  _ow_ ) with both legs and arms he kept safely on, somehow. Sleipnir snorted again, tossed his mane as if to say ‘ugh,  _humans_ ’ and reared back when Tony was too dazed to dismount right away. Okay, that was just terrifying, and as soon as all eight legs were back on the ground Tony jumped from Sleipnir’s back and somehow managed to make his own legs support him through pain that had probably literally turned his bones to jelly.  
  
Pain that was forgotten in about ten seconds as he realized where they  _were_. He’d expected, when Odin had mentioned “the sun’s chariot” to see a literal chariot dragging some personification of the sun through the sky, but it looked like there wasn’t anything quite so literal about it. Wherever they were, the light was as bright as it was during the worst days of a California summer, seemingly indifferent that the rest of the realm (or whatever) was immersed in total darkness. Tony, too frightened by the roller-coaster-worthy ride, couldn’t have said when the light appeared, or where it would end.  
  
Sleipnir snorted in annoyance and shoved his head against Tony’s back, forcing him to stagger forward four or five steps before he righted himself again. Right. Back to business- there was only one path here, so he didn’t need a guide, and he was grateful the horse had remembered to drop him off a bit away from Loki. Better not get on Odin’s bad side for anything more than he needed to, and he would definitely notice if Sleipnir turned up by his son’s prison.  
  
“Wish me luck,” He muttered wearily, checking the saddlebag to make sure it still had the water he needed ( _he_  was the one forced to wear the thing, like some belt, because they couldn’t very well tack Sleipnir up if they were working under the pretense of just letting him roam or whatever) and was relieved to find that yes, it was still there. Not the best canteen in the world, but he somehow doubted that Loki would complain.  
  
Loki. Tony forced his legs to carry him forward at a jog, ignoring the brightness of the sun that stung even his non-Jotun eyes, and within a few minutes he'd left Sleipnir completely behind, alone in this freaky place that felt like half a world at best.  
  
Alone, but only for another few minutes before his aching muscles (oh man,  _he_  was going to need a healer after this) carried him within sight of the strangest prison he’d ever seen. If, in fact, you could even call it a prison- Tony would have just thought it was a giant flag pole (sans the flag) if he hadn’t known exactly what its purpose was, hadn’t sped up at the sight of a body slumped against it, held up by nothing but chains wrapped to his wrists, his waist, his neck.  
  
Tony covered the hundred yards at a sprint, knowing he had to hurry now- Heimdall or whatever he was called would have alerted Odin to Tony’s presence, and even if he hadn’t tried a prison-break just yet there was no doubt to his intentions. Even so he had to freeze before he could move, stop just feet away from Loki and shake his head in disbelief. “ _God_ , Loki… we’re gonna get you out of here now, come on. You’re gonna be fine.”  
  
Loki didn’t seem to notice that he was speaking, but that was no surprise- the god was panting weakly, like it was too much effort to force himself to breathe, his head lolling forward and eyes staring unfocused at the ground. It looked like his skin had been  _literally_  burnt, seared sickeningly dark in patches, and practically dead wherever the metal chains touched it, burning that blue skin black. Tony didn’t want to imagine what his back must have looked like, pressed tight against the metal pole- at least the chains had some give to them.

Tony dove for the deadly-looking knife he’d taken from the table (no longer worried that it might not be enough, there could be no real point in those chains but binding magic, the sun had left Loki far too weak for physical struggling) and reached out carefully with his free hand as he did, testing one unburnt cheek. Loki whimpered and drew back minimally, but not enough that Tony didn’t catch the complete  _normalcy_  of his skin, which was usually so cold it froze at the touch. God, if he’d come just a day later… “Stay awake, Rudolph, I need your help here, Can’t carry you all the way home.”  
  
Loki didn’t react to the quip about his helmet, but he seemed to register speech now, notice that somebody was there. “Brother…?” He wondered weakly, looking up at Tony through hazy red eyes. Oh, man, that just didn’t look  _right_ , not on him.  
  
“Not your brother, he left already, remember?” Tony pointed out, trying to force Loki to look him in the eye so he could get a run of the situation. Delirious. He had heat stroke, no doubt. The bad kind, the kind that ended you up in a hospital, mom and dad waiting in the lobby praying you’d get out alive- but it was “dad’s” fault he was here in the first place, wasn’t it? “It’s just me, the playboy philanthropist.”  
  
Again, Loki didn’t seem to know what he was saying, just continued on in a broken voice that pulled at heartstrings Tony barely knew he had. “I’m sorry, brother,” He whispered, voice breaking, brought down to a sort of fear and pain Tony had never thought him capable of. “I won’t… not again- just… please, I want to… please take me home.”  
  
He looked imploringly up at Tony, apparently still under the dazed impression that he was Thor, who swallowed back revulsion and forced himself to nod. This was getting nowhere fast- so long as Loki was awake, talking, it didn’t matter who he was talking  _to_ , though it took all of Tony’s willpower to keep his hands from shaking with more or less than anger. “I will. You’re coming home, promise.”  
  
And he grabbed for the first set of chains, ignoring the heat they held as he sought to force that violent knife through their grip.

It wasn’t exactly easy, but it was nowhere near as hard as he’d expected, though Tony’s surprise was short lived. He was already soaked with sweat, the back of his shirt sticking all over and hair plastered to his too-hot forehead. The heat here was insane, (yet Loki wasn’t sweating, and whether that was part of being Jotun or not it screamed bad bad  _bad_ ), unnaturally so, and the prolonged exposure seemed to have actually softened the chains. If he didn’t get out, quick, Tony knew he would collapse himself- this wasn’t temperature a human body was made to withstand.  
  
And if he couldn’t take it, then Loki must have been in hell.  
  
The god didn’t protest or even seem to notice Tony’s rough handling of the chains, seemingly unaware that he was being released at all. The metal was still wrapped around his skin, but free from the pole- Tony didn’t think it would be safe to try and unwind it, he’d probably end up tearing off skin that had burnt to the bindings. The thought nearly made him sick, but he had to shove aside squeamishness as he worked anyway, though emotionally he wasn’t quite so prepared. Hacking at the chains was not easy, and the metal tightened and pulled as he did, which had no real effect whether ill or otherwise until he’d already freed Loki’s neck and one arm, then moved onto the next, forgetting until the god gave a weak cry of pain that the bone had been snapped just a few days ago.  
  
“Sorry, sorry,” Tony drew away in a hurry, on instinct reaching out to brush back Loki’s hair, figuring that might calm him somewhat. Other than to lean into Tony’s touch and slow his pained panting somewhat Loki, however, gave no response. His eyes were half-lidded, his breath barely audible even when it was clearly straining him, and a quick touch to his neck proved a weak, rapid pulse.  
  
Damn. Forget Odin finding them, if Tony didn’t hurry this the hell up then Loki was going to die- something that had never seemed a real possibility before, even when they were doing their best to shoot him down during his latest attack on New York. Giving him a break from the chains for a moment Tony reached down and fiddled for a moment with tight leather strings, pulling free the saddle-bag belt mix and managing to open it without spilling any of the contents. Fuck, this wasn’t going to be easy, the thing wasn’t exactly made to act as a cup, but he grabbed Loki a little forcefully by the hair and tipped his head back anyway, pressing the leather bag against his mouth and demanding he, “Drink, come on, it’ll help.”  
  
Loki, understandably, turned his head away at first, trying to keep away from what no doubt just seemed  _strange_  to him, but it didn’t take him long, even addled as he was, to realize that the stuff pouring from the edges of the bag was water- desperately needed water. He only had one free hand and he could barely move, but sudden need seemed enough to motivate Loki into reaching up and joining his hand near Tony’s keeping the makeshift canteen steady while he gulped the stuff down at a too-rapid rate. He was worse off than Tony had anticipated, past the point where water, cold, and salve could heal him up, and if he took too much of the drink at once he’d probably go into shock, throw up and make things well worse all around.  
  
So with a gut-wrenching effort of will Tony stopped forcing Loki’s head back and pried his hand away instead, pulling the saddle bag back once the god had had a safe amount. He glared, a little of that usual fight, and tried to reach for the water again, but Tony held firm and, knowing there would be more in the healing rooms, dumped the remainder out, determined to have no risk of giving into that pleading look, the whimper of sorts that was probably all Loki could make of words right now. “Sorry,” Tony grimaced, turning away from that desperate, red-eyed stare. “Normally I’d make some innuendo here, but I don’t think you can understand me, can you?”

Addled, distracted, and panting weakly despite the help of the water. No, Loki was too far gone for conversation- he had to hurry this up.  
  
More carefully this time, Tony turned back to the chains and began to wear them down as quickly as he could, glad that Asgard’s table knives were like the cutlery from hell. Still, even as quickly as he moved it took another five minutes to wear out the last of the chains, and by that point Loki had practically collapsed, needing to be held up with a hand on his chest even as Tony finished tearing through the final latch around his waist.  
  
After which the god became a practical dead weight, barely conscious, and Tony struggled for a second to get control of keeping them both upright. It wasn’t so hard, surprisingly- contrary to popular belief Tony  _was_  strong underneath that suit, and Loki was tall but thin, lanky, strong but not heavy for it. “Easy there, I got you. Try not to pass out, okay? I’m bad enough at riding horses when it’s just me, I’m pretty sure your kid’s gonna dump us both to the ground if you clock out on me, here,” Tony kept his voice characteristically upbeat, more to keep himself calm than to make any actual point- Loki, barely breathing now, trembling in Tony’s arms as he wrapped them around the god to keep him upright, was well beyond comprehensive conversation.  
  
“ _Hey!_  Stay awake, Loki!” Years of fighting the god made it only the slightest bit easier to give him a rough shake, slightly awkward due to their positions. Loki’s eyes blinked open a little wider, but he fell back to that incoherence again almost immediately. Tony cursed, realizing the god wouldn’t be able to walk even as far away as Sleipnir, and with care not to brush his hands over the burnt skin scattering Loki’s exposed torso (they’d left him with almost nothing to protect him from the heat, just trousers that were scratched and torn from their recent battle, exposing large parts of his legs to burning), pulled the Trickster into a bridal lift.  
  
Loki would probably have killed him for that during any other time, but he only forced one eye open further and made same motion that might have been a weakened smile. “I thought… he was going- going to… let me die this time,” He whispered, barely audible even when Tony ducked his head to catch the cracked words- pained by a dehydrated throat.  
  
Tony’s stomach pulled off another painful flip at Loki’s tone of relief, but his worry over whether or not Odin would actually have left his son long enough for the heat to kill him was short lived. He didn’t have  _time_  to feel pity or panic, he had to get going, quick, before he got arrested or Loki’s body gave up on fighting the climate, and it was still almost a ten minute’s jog back to that horse. Damn, damn damn  _damn_. “You owe me big time for this. Like, no trying to take over the world for at least a  _year_.”  
  
Had Loki heard him? The god’s smile might have twitched slightly, but his eyes had found their way shut, and another rough shake wouldn’t pry them open. Tony could hear his labored breathing and feel his feeble heartbeat, but he had no idea how long either would last. Loki was manageable but not comfortable weight, and forcing himself to walk was hard enough in the heat, but Tony somehow managed to drag his legs into carrying him forward at a jog, almost a run, feeling that he probably looked ridiculous because Loki was just barely taller than him, enough to make a visible difference.  
  
Yet, at that moment, he felt small, like Tony was carrying the child who could believe someone would seek to save him, not the adult who’d long since taught himself otherwise.

Tony was barely dragging the two of them along for more than three minutes when the ground seemed to split- there was a sound like gunfire, a too-familiar rain of it, and if he’d had the energy Tony would have dropped to the ground for cover right there. But wait, no, that was less familiar but not foreign, like running but too  _much_ … Sleipnir? Oh, shit- of course the horse could sense or smell or whatever that they were on their way back, of  _course_  he couldn’t make this easy so maybe Odin wouldn’t know right away that Tony had  _stolen his fucking horse._  He was screwed, so, so screwed- forget imprisonment, he’d be lucky if the Allfather didn’t insist on his death for this, just take a look at the guy’s track record.  
  
But… no, the horse was good- they needed him to come pelting in now, or Loki wouldn’t make it back to where his mother and Eir were waiting to patch him up. So Tony just cursed his fate (and whatever god/s came to mind) and hurried forward to meet Sleipnir when he finally came into view, skidding to a neat stop and scraping his hooves nervously against the ground. When they were close he trotted forward the last few steps, snorting anxiously and nudging Loki with his nose (snout? Whatever it was called on a horse) to check for some sort of reaction. He whinnied loudly when none was given, which at least got the god to do  _something_ , though the sleep-driven twitch of fear wasn’t exactly progress.

“Whoa, boy, Zen out for a second. I swear, you need to take lessons from Bruce or something, you’re making  _me_  nervous.” Yeah, Tony, like you weren’t already. Sleipnir seemed to know it, judging by the look in those weirdly expressive eyes, but now wasn’t the time to defend unspoken claims. Besides, it wasn’t like the horse could start spreading rumors. “Get us out of here.”  
  
Sleipnir tossed his mane, probably some sign of agreement, and shifted, folding all eight legs neatly underneath himself so that he was, in effect, sitting on the floor- something Tony knew horses  _did_ , but you’d think the double amount of limbs would get in the way. Apparently not. “Oh, sure, make things easy  _now_.” Tony whined, but nonetheless checked his grip to bring Loki closer and pulled them both onto Sleipnir’s back, feeling a momentary panic at the thought that he had neither of his hands free, and hell he could barely keep on when it was just  _him_.  
  
But when they rose it was smoothly, none of the horse’s rough demeanor showing through in any of these movements- like he was somehow capable of shifting his muscles so that Tony, busy protecting Sleipnir’s mother, wasn’t jostled at all. Again, would’ve been handy earlier, but it couldn’t have been easy, or fast, but Sleipnir was somehow conveying enough worry that Tony didn’t question the new skill set. “All right, boy, spirit us away,” He chimed happily, completely unsurprised to see that none of the present company understood his reference.  
  
Sleipnir’s back tensed, shifted, and Tony had just enough time to make sure he and Loki were stable before the gun fired again- ready, aim, set for Asgard’s castle and whatever hell awaited them when they made it there.

When Sleipnir wanted to cooperate his help was like riding the wind- a cliché Tony would have gagged at any other time, had he not felt a seemingly impossible world fly past with every step they travelled, held tight to Loki just in case but never needed to, really, because Sleipnir glided as smoothly as if they were flying, not riding, barely able to feel the horse’s formerly jarring body even when he leapt and turned and did other things that made Tony turn a Bruce-ish shade of green to think about. More out of instinct than anything, really, because while he definitely didn’t  _enjoy_  being lugged around on the back of some living thing this was probably the safest Tony’d felt in a long time.  
  
Which spelled out all kinds of fucked-up. He was carrying a dying god in his arms, a god who would happily lay the world to ruin and had  _thrown him out a window_ , barreling through unsteady ground on the way to a city full of  _other_  gods who would be waiting to try him for horse theft and prison break, and he could very likely fall to his death at the slightest misstep from any of Sleipnir’s legs. But… yeah, Tony felt safe, or at least close to it- not because he thought all of this would turn out well, there was no chance in Hell of that, but he was doing something  _right_  for once. He didn’t know if Loki would be shoved off to another prison after this, he didn’t know if he himself would even make it back to Earth unscarred by Odin’s wrath, but he’d given the whole thing a try, hadn’t he?  
  
At the very least he could make sure Loki didn’t literally burn at the stake under the impression that he didn’t deserve anything else.  
  
Sleipnir didn’t look to be under strain, but the horse was obviously putting a great deal of care into this impossibly smooth speed- too much and they’d wear him out, though they’d thankfully passed by the sun’s assault by now. Tony wanted to give Loki’s son a reassuring pat on the neck, but the god himself was taking the total attention of his arms at the moment (still dead weight, still unconscious and probably blissfully so) so he contented himself to call out, “Doin’ good there, Sea Biscuit”, but figured through all the wind and concentration Sleipnir couldn’t hear him, anyway.  
  
So the horse ran on, and within twenty minutes of this dead sprint they were back at that field-still, miraculously, secluded, though Tony couldn’t imagine how they’d been lucky enough to avoid Odin setting a guard up in wait- and yet Sleipnir didn’t stop. Or slow down, at least, to give some indication that he wasn’t about to do something very, very stupid. Stealing the horse was fine, so was letting Heimdall or whoever  _see_  him with the stolen horse, but riding said horse through Asgard at top speeds was begging for punishment- if any of them had Clint’s luck with a bow (or some projectile equivalent) he’d be shot dead because everyone would know immediately that he had stolen the Allfather’s favorite ride.

Of course his other alternative was to rush off on foot, or to put on the suit, and Tony had the feeling neither of those paths would go over any better.  
  
So he ducked forward like he could hide himself and Loki from view a little bit more and hung on for the ride, though he didn’t bother to stop himself from slinging insults at Sleipnir for his reckless behavior. Again, the horse ignored him, and within minutes they were swerving through crowds at unimaginable speeds, galloping and leaping over small bridges, pathways, roads. They were getting a lot of attention, Tony was sure of it, but he never got more than half a second’s glance of these people, and holding Loki to his chest, bent over Sleipnir’s neck… well, it felt like the ending seen of some god-awful Disney movie, and he was loving every second of it as much as he was hating it.  
  
Well, maybe not  _quite_  as much. Tony couldn’t move easily due to the position he was in and the wind resistance, but he could feel that Loki was still breathing- yet, despite being away from that unnatural heat, he only seemed weaker than before. Fuck, he was going to be pissed if the god died and this all turned out to be for nothing.

Well, maybe not nothing. Tony wasn’t very sentimental, but he had to concede that if Loki did die it’d be better for it to happen with him thinking Odin had called for his release than chained up tight, knowing he’d been left to burn. Or had he? It seemed impossible, with that magical gatekeeper of his, that Odin couldn’t have known the state his son was in, but there was still some minimal chance he’d been planning to do something about it. Unlikely, and even if they reached the medical bay to find Mr. eyepatch 2.0 waiting with flowers and an endless supply of magical healing potions Tony would still rather spit in his face than forgive him.  
  
At long last Sleipnir skidded to a halt, and only then did Tony nearly fall, keeping Loki held tight with one arm while the other grabbed a tuft of black mane to keep himself steady. If it hurt Sleipnir gave no sign, only began to snort impatiently and toss his head, walking in nervous circles outside some back door to the castle (the two posted guards were staring with mouths agape, apparently too stunned by Tony’s daring to act against it immediately) and making it pretty much impossible to dismount.  
  
“Cool it, speedy, I gotta get  _down_ ,” Tony insisted, repeating himself when Sleipnir ignored him and only then did the horse whinny what may have been an apology and fold his way into an almost-crouching position once more. Getting off was harder than climbing up, especially with Loki held the way he was, but he managed it eventually, and once he’d gotten back on steady ground drew his eyes up and saw that the guards still hadn’t made a move against him. Either they thought there was no way he could be doing this except on Odin’s orders, or the look Sleipnir was giving them was enough discouragement to motivate inaction.  
  
Either way, Tony wasn’t going to sit around and let them make up their minds. His arms were stiff and his legs worse after the long ride(s), but a whimper from Loki was enough to force both into moving forward, brushing past the startled guards and shouldering the door open with a great effort. The two soldiers looked at each other and there was a jostling of metal in which Tony was sure he was going to be impaled, but they only set off at a jog to who-cares-where. He had to get inside, figured this was probably the medical bay and if he didn’t hurry Loki would die, it’d be Odin’s fault but theirs to, they’d brought him here, brought him to  _this_ -  
  
The door swung in directly to a healing room, so unlike a hospital that Tony literally froze despite his anxiety and could only  _stare_. For one thing, there were no stark white walls or poorly dyed scratchy blankets, and no standard equipment or anything that even resembled it. There was a huge painting on the wall, of a tree that looked like it was made of breath and blood and all those things a tree shouldn’t be, and unlike the metal majority of Asgard this place was almost entirely wood. There were shelves stacked with potions, salves, medical mumbo-jumbo he’d never seen outside a Skyrim marketplace. And everyone there seemed to be female or a remarkably young boy, aside from a few injured patients (most of them unconscious, one getting his arm stitched up with an annoyed expression), though none was flitting about in white robes with an angelic look of kindness.  
  
But it was cold compared to the outdoors, and that was really all that he cared about.  
  
The only familiar bits about it were the things Tony least understood- Frigga and Eir stood in the center of the room, talking in hushed voices, and both looked up as if on cue when Tony took his first few steps into the room. The latter turned all business and stepped calmly forward to meet him, beckoning for a “nurse” or two to join her, but Frigga seemed momentarily stunned. Tony couldn’t fault her for it- the look of horror at her son’s state was one he could sympathize with all too well.  
  
“How much did he drink?” Eir’s voice wasn’t harsh or brusque like those tough-as-nails nurses in television, and Tony was more than grateful for the surprise. He gave his answer simply, suddenly too tired to care much for sarcasm, and she nodded, looking almost pleased. “We were worried he’d get too much, most people… never mind. We’ll take him now.”

  1.  Tony knew any of these ladies could have carried Loki much easier than he himself was managing it, but he drew the trembling god towards his own body and shook his head. “All the same, I think I’ll handle that part. Show me the bed.”  
  
No protest, unsurprisingly, just a few directions before the healers (or whatever they were called) bustled off to get whatever they would need. The healing room was huge, no surprises considering who it catered to, and Eir led Loki to a mercifully empty section, keeping the god free from the curious glances of other patients or workers. (The one getting his arm stitched had started craning his neck, mixture eagerness and apprehension at the idea of getting a better look at the wounded Jotun.) It was difficult laying Loki down without making things worse for either his broken arm or the horrific burn on his back, but with Eir’s help he maneuvered the god onto his left side, letting him rest on blissfully cold sheets. Frigga joined them almost immediately, quickly overcoming her shock, and Tony turned on her immediately, desperate to distract himself from  _what if_.  
  
“He thought I was Thor.” He spoke without preamble, not caring that it might have been rude to address a queen without respecting the formalities. “He begged me to bring him back here- you’ve got to tell me Thor didn’t just ignore that.” Because if he had then Tony didn’t care who was attacking New York next, he wouldn’t work within ten feet of a mission that even smelt of the god’s involvement.  
  
Frigga looked just as weary as he did, but she didn’t seem to be brushing him off when she carefully magicked over a chair from the other side of the room and rested beside her son, a very queenly hand smoothing back his hair as Eir set to safely removing those chains Tony hadn’t risked. “Thor is… having word with my husband. I don’t doubt that he will be here soon.”  
  
Not much of an answer, but Tony didn’t think he’d be getting a better one. Well, whatever, he could ask Thor when he saw him- which would apparently be before too long, though a part of him wanted to request Eir bar the guy from coming in. His presence would be good for Loki, which was the important part. “You think he’s going to be okay?”  
  
No need to elaborate. Frigga didn’t answer right away, nor did Eir offer any help in the matter- the healer looked too absorbed in her work to do much of that at the moment- and the only sound for a few minutes was some heartbreaking murmur of pain from Loki, who immediately relaxed when his mother again brushed her hand through his hair. “Loki has endured worse,” She said simply, which Tony understood to mean both yes and no at the same time.  
  
He didn’t really know what to say or do after that, so he stood silent for what felt like an eternity, watching Eir work the chains off through a combination of magic and practical healing. Next she tilted Loki’s head back and forced some wispy purple stuff down his throat, that made the god grimace and fight for just a moment, before dabbing a creamy salve over the worst of his burns, whispering something that sounded like spell work under her breath. Frigga had her eyes closed in concentration, like she was working her own magic, and eventually Loki’s breath evened out to the point of audibility, though it was by no means painless.



God, couldn’t they get the poor guy some water? They had their magic now, they could make sure he was safe from the ill effects, right? Apparently healing wasn’t quite that convenient, though Tony figured after all Loki’d been put through it damn well ought to have been. “You there, you’re the one who rescued him?”  
  
Eir’s voice didn’t shock him out of some distraction, but being addressed made him give a nervous-half jump and stare at her for a moment before nodding. “Yup, the knight in shining armor. Except I had jeans and a kitchen knife instead of a sword and shield, but whatever.”

“I have to set his arm, and that’s going to be painful even with the potion. It might help if he had your contact,” Eir offered quietly, and Tony was surprised to find that it really did  _feel_  like an offer, not a request or a demand.” I would wait for him to recover more, but once he’s cooled his skin will be too dangerous to touch.” They were trusting him to help? What did he know about making people feel better?  
  
Gallantry was one thing, but comfort… normally he’d have refused, but Loki was just as bad as he was- there was nothing to taint with his help, here, so Tony nodded and kneeled next to Frigga’s chair, finding it much easier than he’d have thought to take hold of Loki’s too-warm hand. “Yeah, I can do that.”  
  
He could have sworn Eir smiled at him, or maybe it was Frigga, but he didn’t have much time to think about it. Setting the bone was quick and painful work, and when he saw the goddess go to start Tony didn’t shut his eyes but fixed them on Loki’s momentarily peaceful face and tried to etch that into memory, a second before pain shot through those features alongside the  _crack_  of repair. His throat seemed too dry to offer a proper cry of pain, but there was a half-formed gasp that shook with it. Loki’s hand wrapped around Tony’s and practically crushed it in his grip, only relenting once his strained whine had become panting once more and Frigga had kissed his forehead, whispered reassurances Tony didn’t hear. He didn’t hear, either, Eir sending the nurses off for water at last, or the minor commotion from outside the door he hadn’t come through, and if he had he probably wouldn’t have cared.  
  
Loki’s hand was still applying a barely-there pressure that made it difficult for Tony to draw away, and that… well, that was nice. Nicer than it should have been.

Before Tony could stop and think that maybe that sort of attitude was dangerous the room’s quiet came apart with a crash- the door had swung open so hard it splintered at the edge when it collided with the stone wall. Odin, Thor, maybe some guards. Tony didn’t think it was quite worth his time to look up and check, though he saw Frigga rise with a look of anger and indignation at the disrupting noise- not just because it made Loki flinch in his sleep, but because there were other hard-fought warriors trying to get their rest in this place. The god quieted down quickly enough, but his grip on Tony’s hand had become literally painful, and didn’t relax at all when voices filtered their way through the haze of sleep.  
  
“Father! You are behaving like a child, turn and  _listen_  to what I have to say-“  
  
“It is no business of yours to lecture  _me_ , Thor!” Odin's voice, and despite himself Tony felt his whole body tense up in anger, probably crushing Loki’s hand in a furious grip that the Trickster didn’t seem to mind. “I will speak with you when I see fit.”  
  
“You would see fit that Loki die before you admit to being wrong! I’ve been to Midgard, I’ve seen what they can do, there are better ways-“  
  
“This is a healing room, if you two have forgotten.” Eir’s voice was calm, quiet, drifting through the air like something was carrying it and Tony felt like he’d never heard anything more forceful in his life. “I won’t permit even you disrupting my patients, Allfather.”  
  
“Loki should not  _be_  your patient,” Odin replied calmly, and at last Tony looked up and saw that one eye glaring down at him with anger that couldn’t, not here, break free. “I gave no ord-“

“Damn right he shouldn’t be.” Fuck, the guy just pushed buttons Tony didn’t even know existed didn’t he? As if to steel him along Loki murmured something unintelligible but pitiably  _scared_  in his sleep, and if not for that hand in his Tony would have been on his feet then and there, see if he couldn’t get in a punch before Odin’s magic did its thing. “What’s with the look, Hannibal? Pissed off that I saved your son’s life?”  
  
Evidently so. “It is not your right to interfere, mortal.” Unlike the others Odin didn’t let the word tinge with insult, or Thor’s naïve superiority, but this ringing sort of power that reminded Tony just how different they were. And that only got him all the angrier- he was supposed to be  _better_  than humans, supposed to be some god- how did he get away with crap like this? “Had Loki’s life been in danger-“  
  
“Don’t tell me you’d have stepped in. Take one look at him and tell me he’d survive another ten minutes in that place.” Silence, from all of them, as Odin glared but slowly, reluctantly almost, turned his impassive gaze toward Loki and beside him Thor froze, a look of mixed horror and fear on that golden face of his, staring down at his ill brother.  
  
Odin didn’t speak for a moment, and Tony took his chance. “Get rid of it. Let him look like one of you again. He’ll never survive if he has to get that cold again- or is your damn pride more important than whether your son lives or dies?”  
  
For one horrible second Tony was sure Odin would disagree, tell Tony this was Loki’s punishment for what he’d done and he, some mortal who’d dared defy his orders, shouldn’t even think to give him orders. But Thor cut in, said “Father,” in a low voice, and for the first time something like weariness passed over Odin’s face. His wife moved forward and said something to him that Tony couldn’t quite hear, looking like a tigress ready to pounce when she stepped away a moment later. Whatever she’d said clearly, unsurprisingly, had some impact, and even without it Tony doubted anybody could stand long under that furiously determined look Eir was fixing him with.  
  
Odin turned back to Tony, for the first time making him shift with fear rather than just anger, and didn’t once look away as he raised and then lowered his staff, a gentle parody of the original sentence in his court.

The effect was instant, though hardly dramatic. The harsh blue, the lines like scars, bled away from Loki’s skin as smoothly as they had come, though there was only the slightest shift in temperature through his hand. Tony knew it was safer this way though, his body could survive despite the heavy heat he still fought off, the burns now more visible than ever. His hopes were confirmed almost immediately as Loki’s weak trembling lessened, though never vanished, and with a shuddering gasp the god began to breathe almost properly again, half-curling in on himself as if in relief. Tony felt his heart do a mutinous little cartwheel in relief, and found he had to actively fight against the urge to run a calming hand through the path Frigga-in standing to confront her husband- had abandoned.  
  
Not too difficult when some unseen force dragged him to his feet moments later, and forced Tony to relinquish his grip. Loki, he wasn’t all that startled to see, extended his hand only barely, as if seeking to find that comforting hold again, but Odin was too pressing a concern to ignore just then. Thor looked between his father and his teammate, weighing some unseen problem, then stood straighter and brushed past them both to kneel beside his brother. Good. Tony had the feeling that if he had left Loki a moment longer his respect for Thor, despite whatever he may have been saying to Odin, would have dissipated entirely.  
  
“Save the speech,” Tony cut in, seeing Odin had opened his self-righteous mouth and no, he just didn’t have the patience for that, not now. “I’ve defied your orders, I’ve abused your trust and hospitality, I’ve broken a treaty between our realms, and I just don’t give a shit. I’m not going to apologize for what I’ve done.”  
  
Was that an approving look Frigga was giving him, that half-curved smile though her brow creased in worry? Tony liked to think so. “You brought Loki to us for punishment, and yet you fight when we give it.” Odin sounded only vaguely surprised, but there was a hint of curious anger battling out all else, and Tony tried hard not to think of Obadiah shaking his head in wonder at the machine and life he’d just stolen. “You believe yourselves, then, to be more capable?”  
  
Sure, why not? They’d lost him, before, but they just hadn’t  _done_  it right. Loki didn’t need a jail cell and he didn’t need torture- he needed a few hundred hours of highly supervised psychiatric care, and somebody to show they gave a damn about his wellbeing. “Is that an offer?”  
  
“You will be likely to avoid your own persecution, let alone take charge of his.” Odin retorted harshly, and Tony had the feeling he was purposefully not looking at either of his sons. “You have insulted my law, and my land.”  
  
“Then punish us both. The right way,” Tony spoke up before he could think about it, and immediately imagined himself tied up beside Loki, trapped in the middle of some lion’s cage or whatever this sadist would come up with next. “He can’t do anything if we watch him- give him to me, I’ll take responsibility for everything he does. Let me play warden, and I’ll show you there’s a better way to do this.”  
  
“Mortals always think their way is best. Do you truly think we have learned nothing in our long lives?” Odin demanded. And for once… no. No he didn’t. Tony didn’t need to turn around and watch Thor, trembling with the effort to fight against outrage and shame, whispering apologies to his sleeping brother to know that, but he did anyway. And when he turned back again his expression had softened, somewhat, but Odin was as stoic as ever- or maybe, probably, he was just a lot better at hiding.

“You learn, yeah, but not enough. You’re gods, nobody tells you what to do- so whatever, always in the right, aren’t you?” Tony sneered, drawing up to his full height and tilting his head back to meet Odin’s eye, unshaken by the difference in size or race. “Well tough. It’s not anyone else’s job to teach you what’s right or wrong, Odin- you want to be a leader? Then take this traditional bullshit and toss it out the window, or step aside and let someone else handle it. It shouldn’t be up to us to show you, or Thor,” the Thunderer shifted slightly behind him but made no comment, probably even agreed, “how to act like decent people. But we have, so spit or swallow that pride and fucking  _learn something_  from it.”  
  
Silence again, stretching on and on and oh, god, he was probably going to die. He’d stolen Odin’s horse, broken his laws, and mocked him on multiple accounts without shame- knowing this place’s justice system, Tony didn’t doubt that could merit execution for a mortal like him. But, somehow, without Frigga or Thor needing to act on their very obvious approval, Odin nodded, just barely.  
  
“So be it,” He began, not waiting for Tony to get over his stretching shock at still having his head intact. “You believe you know better than the gods, boy? Then you will have but a month to prove it. Tomorrow, you and Loki will be bound by magic- if you allow him to stray too far from your sight then you will face the consequences. If you fail to produce a change in my son, then both of you will be punished as I see fit.”  
  
“Be reasonable, my husband, he doesn’t know what he’s asking,” Frigga hissed suddenly, looking at Tony with just a touch of that protective anxiety she showed for Loki, still sleeping his way through the discussion of his fate. He muttered something again and Thor responded in a low voice, prompting Loki to nod sleepily and turn onto his stomach rather anticlimactically while they all watched in another of those stubborn silences.  
  
The motherly behavior was nice, though foreign, but that didn’t mean Tony needed it right now. He could deal with binding, big deal- if it was magic then even better. Magic meant arm room, no handcuffs, and Loki couldn’t work his way out of it and end up worse off. A month was a long time, but he’d spent three doing far worse. So Tony again met Odin’s one eye, feeling like he’d been being too responsible for too long, and nodded. “You got yourself a deal, all daddy.”

Obviously nobody had expected this. Eir hesitated just for a moment and fixed him with a thoughtful look, but immediately went back to applying medicine and magic to Loki’s battered body. Thor and Frigga, however, cast each other concerned looks, and though the former didn’t rise from his brother’s side Tony knew he was risking a lecture from the other Avenger. Odin, though, seemed satisfied somewhat, which couldn’t have been a good sign. And yet… so what? Tony  _knew_  there was a way to make things better for Loki, despite everything else he’d already done- and he’d pay for that, eventually, but in some way that kept him sane and logical enough to actually learn something from the punishment.  
  
Tony could easily deal with being remotely confined to the god of mischief for a month.  
  
“Then you and Loki will be brought before me tomorrow. Let us hope we don’t both regret your decision,” Odin said quietly, still looking just at Tony. Again, there was a long moment when nobody moved, and part of Tony was screaming for Odin to just step forward, kneel beside Thor and at least check to see Loki was okay. To turn to Frigga and apologize, or ask Eir how close he really  _had_  been to losing a child that day. Or to sit down, at least, and watch in that stoic silence as this mortal tried to fill in part of that gap he was leaving behind amidst his torn and broken family.  
  
But Odin just nodded once more and turned away, heading for the door without looking once at Loki. Tony narrowed his eyes, much less surprised than he’d have liked to be, and watched Frigga bristle with indignation before whispering something to both her sons and following the Allfather’s path. After that second  _swoosh_  of the door clanging shut Tony let out a breath he hadn’t even noticed he was holding and turned around at last, glad to see Loki’s trembling had subsided somewhat.  
  
Damn, these guys healed physical wounds ridiculously quickly- though Tony had a feeling that only made the mental ones worse. “What were you and your dad going on about?” As if he didn’t already know, but Tony wanted to hear it from Thor himself, and he didn’t think the guy would mind telling him. Arrogant, godly, bit behind the times- but definitely not afraid to feel regret or shame, and he wouldn’t hide it if he thought he’d done something wrong.  
  
Thor didn’t disappoint. He turned to Tony for a moment with an unreadable expression then stood up, almost reluctantly. Loki whimpered, quietly and involuntarily, at the loss of proximity, but Eir was quietly ignoring their discussion and calmed him down with a wet, probably cold, towel along the back of his neck. “I was a child until I first came to Earth. On Asgard I could behave however I liked, and morally… our entire race is underdeveloped, caught up in our own superiority,” Thor said at length, with a sort of confused sadness that made it a little easier not to be mad at him. Just a bit.

“No excuse. He should’ve noticed Loki wasn’t rehabilitating- torture just makes things worse.” Tony was going to have a hard time repairing the damage done this time, when the god finally woke up with some degree of coherence, but at least he’d be  _trying_. Loki must have relied on himself alone to break free all those times before, no wonder he was such a poster-child for the lone gunslinger gone crazy. “You’re telling me nobody noticed what all that was doing to him?”

“They-  _I_  always thought Loki was determined not to change. And do not assume this is not true, Tony Stark- my brother has always enjoyed tricks no matter how cruel they may become, he does not wish to become a hero,” Thor warned confidently. Tony shrugged, conceding the point, but figured that hardly counted as justification and waited, knowing there had to be more. “But he is not evil… and my people have forgotten that. We’ve…  _tainted_  him and never saw an alternative. On Midgard I realized there are better solutions to many of our ways, not merely father’s ideas of punishment. He did not agree.”  
  
“Of course he didn’t. Nobody tells a King of the gods what he can’t do.” His voice was decisively less bitter than he felt it should have been, but something about Thor just made it nearly impossible to be solely angry with him. Yeah, Tony was pissed, but the god was so  _good_ \- and he was trying where Odin would not, to recover a thousand years’ worth of failings. That… couldn’t be an easy burden, even if it was self-inflicted.  
  
“No. None but you.” Thor smiled, immediately forcing aside Tony’s fear that he was being scolded somehow, and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You saved Loki’s life. If he had been forced to wait until I convinced the Allfather of the danger he was in I do not like to think what would happen.”  
  
“Why didn’t you get him out yourself?” Not entirely sympathetic, no, but hey, Tony figured he was justified there.  
  
That already weary smile wavered further, and Thor’s eyes cast low, not quite to the ground but no longer looking straight at Tony- shame, yes, but a very dignified version of it. Everything he did seemed dignified. “I tried. Those chains were kept safe from magic- no matter what tool I chose they sensed what I was and held fast. The Allfather would not have expected a mortal to make his way to such a spot.”  
  
“Yeah, well, I had to steal his horse to do it.” Another slight smile, the first major reminder that Thor, too, was Frigga’s son. “He thought I was you. Delirious I think. Practically begged to be taken home.”  
  
Thor looked as though he’d just been hit in the gut by a baseball bat, and his nod was far less assured than normal. “I am not surprised. He was already far gone when I found him.”  
  
Tony returned the nod, keeping his expression hard without much difficulty. “Don’t be here when he wakes up,” He said at last, meeting Thor’s startlingly blue eyes and doing his best not to feel intimidated by just how sharp they could be.  
  
Yes, Thor had done Loki’s unconscious mind some good, but when he woke up the Trickster would be loath to face him, especially if he remembered all those broken pleas for comfort. And Thor wouldn’t know how to respect Loki’s need to patch up his pride. He seemed startled by Tony’s order, a bit angry even, but after a few moment’s deliberation and a glance for his sleeping brother he nodded once more. They watched each other for a few heartbeats, Tony letting his stance and eyes say just where he’d be when Loki came out of it, and Thor did nothing to fight his decision. Then they settled in, one way or another, and tried to keep out of the healer’s ways as much as possible.  
  
There wasn’t much to say, after that.

 

 

 

\-----

  
Exactly eight hours and eighteen minutes after Tony first found him, Loki re-awoke to the world.  
  
It wasn’t a simple thing, either, but the transition to full consciousness was enough that Thor was gone by the time Loki’s half-lidded eyes cleared and his speech became legible. Tony, who’d just come out of a nap himself, grinned and did his best to look as non-condescending/threatening/ _him_  as possible, and promptly failed miserably in at least one count out of three. “Hey there, sunshine. Feeling better?”

Loki half-flinched involuntarily, and Tony silently cursed himself for the poor choice of nickname. The god, though, didn’t even seem to notice what he’d done. He’d been moved onto his back about three hours ago- the burn decisively healed to the point where they could bandage it up and take pressure off those on his stomach- and had an easy task of looking around the room, long since darkened with only two or three healers still about, and each of them off attending to menial concerns until some need was called to their intention. If Tony’d expected panic then he didn’t get it- Loki looked resigned at best, an eerie sort of calm steeling over his expression as he turned a too-green gaze on Tony, obviously waiting for him to say more.  
  
That look had always been unsettling, and somehow it was even worse now that they weren’t (literally) going for each other’s throats. “Right. So. Uh… glad to see you’re coherent again. You in any pain?”  
  
More important than explanations right now, though all the question did was make the suspicion in Loki’s gaze double. Probably not used to people being worried after his health in this too-familiar situation, definitely not people like Tony. “Yes. It will pass,” He said at last, voice still raw from three days of intense heat and only a few safe sips of water.  
  
Speaking of which. Tony looked about him for a moment, trying to remember where he’d put it, before he finally took hold of a water-filled goblet Eir had left for him (probably no ordinary drink), and offered it rather forcefully to a sufficiently confused god. “Drink up. Cool as your magical salves may be, Asgard doesn’t have anything handy as an IV- gotta replenish all that water somehow.”

Miraculously, Loki didn’t protest. He only reached out weakly, just barely awake from the look of it, but kept his hand steady when he took the drink. He didn’t thank Tony, brought the goblet to his lips and didn’t say another word until all the liquid had been drained, at which point he waved his hand experimentally. Nothing happened, magic either not responding or too busy keeping him alive, so he allowed Tony to take the goblet and set it aside manually. “What’s your aim then? Sent to soothe over my wounds, befriend me in a time of need? Don’t waste your time, I have no interest in your compassion.”  
  
“You know, seeing as I saved your life I’m thinking that’s not quite true.” There, that flicker of surprise- Loki really couldn’t remember his own rescue, or at least not properly. “You don’t have to believe me, but it’s true. I don’t give a damn about tricking you, I just couldn’t sit there and let you go down like that.”

Not entirely true, not the only reason- but the one Loki could understand best, growing up in a society full of “honorable this” and “honorable that”, where death was no exception. “Are you waiting for me to proclaim a debt, then? I assure you, it’s implied- no need to gawk at me in my sleep,” Loki snapped, and the water hadn’t done enough good to keep him from wincing and rubbing tiredly at his too-sore throat.  
  
“Making sure you’re okay. And hey, I do love story time- thought you’d appreciate the company. Chewed your father out earlier, you know, me and Thor. Like to think I did a better job of it though.” Tony forced himself not to look at Loki and gauge his expression, instead standing under the pretense of selecting some bottles that had ceased to be interesting about five hours ago. “He’s definitely maddest at me, so that’s always a bonus. He’s letting me babysit though, so I guess you’re stuck with me. For about a month, actually- we’re gonna be bound by magic. Or whatever.”

He picked up and sniffed the lid of a dark green thing he already knew by know smelt of mint and rubber, feigning nonchalance though he could practically sense the level of distrust Loki was watching him with. “What are you going on about now?”  
  
“The Allfather, or whatever you call him, is going to magically chain us together somehow and let me play warden for a month, see if my wonderful personality doesn’t do you some good,” Now he did turn, but kept inspecting the newest bottle in his hands rather than tilting his gaze right away. “Thought that might be… better. Than all this.”

It was frustrating not being able to just speak flat out, but Loki still didn’t seem to  _realize_  that there was anything wrong with the treatment his family dealt out, and Tony wouldn’t get far by bashing the system. “Bound. To you? I’d rather you left me there,” Loki sneered, probably half genuine. “So why the late night visit?”  
  
“A few things I wanted to ask you. Oh, and your son says hi.” That did it. There was a definite shift in the atmosphere, a slight intake of breath that told Tony it was safe to look up now, in time to see Loki watching nervously out of the corner of his eye. He may not have trusted his adopted family, but he loved his children, and if they’d been involved somehow maybe he’d see that this wasn’t some hoax.  
  
“You’ve met Sleipnir? How?” Loki demanded, the angry-parent-mode slightly dampened by weariness. Tony wondered for a second how he knew which son he’d meant but quickly remembered right, the others were all either bound, banished, or dead, now.  
  
“Took him. He gave me a lift to go get you.” Tony waited for a mark of disbelief, but that had turned into something closer than curiosity now, though Loki still looked as if he was waiting for this whole thing to blow up in his face. “…Why do you do it? You killed thousands of people with that last stunt in New York, what’s the point of all that?”  
  
He knew, now, more than he’d have liked, but he wanted to hear it straight from the horse’s (mother’s) mouth, and Loki seemed just dazed enough to give an answer. The god’s eyes wavered and fixed again on the ceiling, nothing in the line of his lips or the muscle of his jaw, neck, whatever to indicate he was feeling much of anything. The silence stretched on, and on, until Tony started to panic and wonder if Loki’s health was acting up again and had just determined to rush off for Eir or some more water when he answered at last.  
  
“I have forgotten what my daughter looks like,” Loki said in a voice no more than a hollow whisper, not cracked with pain or thick with tears but just… there. And that was somehow so much worse. “The dead are all I can give her.”  
  
Tony felt a funny twitch in his chest that left it burning. There was more than just the obvious there, Loki remembering the loss of his kids and mourning them all through that one title, but what lay on the surface struck the hardest, and in the strangest spots. He lowered his gaze to the ground, finding he didn’t know how to  _do_  this now that Loki was awake, and wondered how they’d spent so long around two gods without ever bothering to look things up. The goddess of death was this guy’s daughter, and they expected him to view killing as the same sin it was to the non-traumatized majority. That was… frightening. Tony couldn’t condone murder, especially through an attempt at domination, on any scale- let alone the massive drop Loki had caused in the population he hoped to rule. But he couldn’t really ignore that, either, not when Loki was acting so calmly after three days of horrible torture-no big deal, happens all the time. Not for the first time Tony felt like he might be sick, due to Loki's indifference as much as the reminder of the other's cruelties, and decided he was bringing a year’s supply of Pepto-Bismol next time he had to have anything to do with these fucked up gods.  
  
Loki didn’t look to him for a response, and Tony found he couldn’t manage to give any. “Here. Sleeping draught, Eir says you won’t dream. Big day coming up,” He said at last, holding out the deep-green bottle and wondering if Loki would refuse.

Instead the god sat up as much and as quickly as his battered body would allow, and snatched the potion as soon as it was within reach. Eir’s name seemed to convince him it was safe to drink, because he didn’t even question Tony about the possibility of poison as he withdrew the cap with slightly shaking hands and brought the bottle to his lips. Which were (how had he  _missed_  that?) drained of all but the lightest shade of barely-there pink. His whole body was pale, shaking but too dehydrated to sweat just yet, and still Tony could more than see how much fear his question had installed.

 

 

 

Loki finished two gulps of the remedy before licking his lips clean of any remnants, and Tony fully expected to be told to go on his way immediately- for the god to savor those last hours apart from his enemy before Odin literally worked his magic. Instead he offered the bottle, eyes already turning heavy with sleep, and Tony-after staring uncomprehendingly for about thirty seconds- found he was all too happy to take it.

He didn’t know what was in that stuff Eir had made up, but it worked like a charm. One swallow and he’d barely had time to set the bottle down before slipping off to sleep- no dreams and, more importantly, no nightmare for the first time in years (or, well, for the first time sober anyway). The only downside was that consciousness ended up heavy, reluctant- dragging him down further each second as he tried to blink his eyes open, realized only that his head was buried up against something soft before drifting off again, completely content. Apparently the standard dose of that stuff doesn’t apply to mortals, because it hit him stronger and faster than anything else ever had.  
  
Eventually though he woke up in a definite way, mildly surprised to find he was sitting in some plush chair with his torso slumped over the edge of a very cold, very Asgardian bed. He’d woken up in far stranger, far worse, situations before, so it took him only a few moments to adjust and remember exactly where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. Normally this was the part where he should sit upright with a jolt and look around frantically to look for whatever it was people looked for in the midst of this cliché, but instead he turned his head lightly to the side and glanced up at Loki, lying just inches away and paying him absolutely no attention.  
  
“Once in the morning, once at night, until those burns go away- twelve hours apart, I don’t care about specific times so long as you don’t make a fuss about coming by,” Eir was in the midst of a very nursely lecture, hands busy at applying some bandages that looked almost more like clouds than cloth to the worst of Loki’s burns- wrist, back, neck. “And no shirts- make yourself an illusion if you must, but I’d recommend no magic as well. Drink at least one full goblet of the spring’s water every hour, and if you feel faint for any reason immediately return here. You shouldn’t fight either, though I don’t think the Allfather will give you weapons access, and… well, your brother’s a bit of an oaf, so don’t let him touch you- pressure will just make those worse and-“

“And you’ll know if I don’t obey. Yes, I’m familiar with the routine,” Loki muttered, far more patiently than Tony suspected he would have done with anybody else trying to fix him up this way. “The binding-“  
  
“I have spoken with the Allfather already. He’s been instructed on how to alter the spell without agitating your health, and all the magic for it will come remotely from himself. I won’t have him exhausting my patients anymore,” Eir huffed, and Tony felt a moment of strong approval for her.  
  
Which lasted just a few seconds before his mind whirred back to hyper-drive, hooking on to Loki’s words. “What time’re we supposed to go get the not-quite-handcuff treatment?” Tony wondered with a wide yawn, which didn’t seem to surprise either of them. Freaking gods, probably knew he was awake even before he’d fully realized it.  
  
“Half an hour,” Loki said calmly, and Tony watched him for some sign of how he knew that, but the god’s face revealed no emotion. Nothing, not even mockery, and that was answer enough for Tony- his heart went cold at the thought of Odin paying his son a visit, especially with Tony sleeping about two inches from his thigh, but he harbored that hatred for later.  
  
“Could’ve woken me up. I don’t need that much beauty sleep,” Tony whined, reaching up to smooth back his hair and finding the effort futile. Oh, whatever, he looked better messy anyway. “You still-?”

“You wouldn’t wake up.” Loki cut in before Tony could finish his question, directing a warning glare to Eir as if she’d been about to… well, about to something. Tony couldn’t quite figure out what she may or may not have been on the verge of doing that would get Loki riled up. “I do believe you drooled at some point.”

Cool, that was attractive. Tony wiped his mouth- and yup, sleeve came away wet, gross- and straightened up in his seat, back screaming in protest, but he had worse injuries to be worrying about. “Think you’ll be able to walk? You were pretty bad before, don’t want you passing out on the way to our big debut.”  
  
“I’ll manage.” Calm, collected, the sort of behavior Tony was rapidly attributing to Loki when he was scared or lost and didn’t know how to show it. He’d never known proper comfort and never learned how to show when he needed it- of course his emotional well drew a blank at times like this. “Your friends came by.”  
  
Oh, crap. “What happened?”  
  
“Sleipnir refused to let them inside and kicked that Captain of yours in the chest when he tried to force entry. They were rather loud about it all.”  
  
“All four hooves or just two?”  
  
“Two.”  
  
“Ah, feeling generous then.” If Tony had expected a smile or anything of the sort he failed to get it- Loki only turned to him, frowned slightly and blinked in vague confusion, then turned away once more.  
  
It took ten minutes for Eir to finish bandaging up her charge, and another five before Tony felt they’d gotten Loki properly to his feet. It wasn’t easy, despite his godly healing factor, and after taking two steps then collapsing with a gasp that could have been either pained or shocked Loki seemed to realize that he couldn’t make the trip on his own. So Tony swung one arm over his shoulder and hoped that would be enough support, trying hard to act like he couldn’t see the furious shame in Loki’s eyes.  
  
Even Tony had a hard time admitting that it wasn’t a bad thing to let people help you, and he’d spent the majority of his adulthood surrounded by friends who kept trying. Loki looked as if he were giving up the last thing he had to hold on to with every slight concession he made, every dent in his pride. “Easy there, big guy. Couldn’t we get your son in here to help with this?”  
  
“I am not allowed to see him,” Loki explained simply, that same emptiness with which he’d spoken of Hel the night before. “Get a move on, the Allfather is such a brat about being kept waiting.”

“Anthony Stark-“Great, who the hell was handing out business cards with his full name on them? Tony turned, trying to shuffle Loki’s weight without seeming overbearing, and saw Eir watching him with an innocent sort of curiosity. “Thank you. I rarely have support in this.”  
  
“Yeah, no problem,” Tony said quickly, turning away immediately because that shamed glare was back in Loki’s eyes. “Every night, every morning- we’ll drop by. See you then.”  
  
And he was going to leave anyway, but Loki started walking at that point and weary or not he was still strong enough that Tony had no choice but to follow. They reached the door just fine, but once they’d made it about two steps out of it Loki’s legs seemed to turn momentarily into jello, and if not for Tony’s weight to lean against he would have fallen to the floor and done himself even more damage. Bad idea to try and help him stand, so Tony waited until Loki had caught his breath alone and straightened up, eyes sharp and mouth a thin line. Eventually he nodded and off they went, Tony thanking his lucky stars (however few there may be) that the throne was so close to the medical rooms.  
  
Loki wouldn’t speak to or look at him the whole way, so the trip passed in an extremely awkward silence that Tony figured was probably safer than actual speech. He expected hesitation at the doors, but Loki actually shoved his arm aside and pushed his way through with a straight back, never mind that it was covered in bandages. Tony followed without giving himself time to think about it, well aware what might happen if Loki’s determination burnt up too much of his energy.

Jesus  _Christ_  the court was crowded- worse than it had been for Loki’s original trial (or semblance of one, anyway, Tony’d seen how little room they offered for debate), though at least Thor was standing off to his mother’s side this time. He perked up like a dog called to fetch when he saw his brother, eyes hopeful but anxious, and a look of despair flickered over his face when his gaze passed over the cloudy bandages that spoke of his brother’s injuries. These had caught a lot of attention, actually, though Tony saw sickening smirks from most assembled.  
  
The Avengers, though, in a place of “honor” not far off from Thor, looked horrified- even Coulson looked a little paler than usual at the sight of Loki.  _Stop it,_  Tony wanted to scream, _stop looking at him like that, he doesn’t_ get  _it, just stop_ , but wisely kept his mouth shut, and not so wisely performed a floor-deep, mocking bow for Odin’s benefit. No mutter of dissent this time, apparently they knew better than to expect anything else from him after that last display.  
  
Loki smiled grimly at the sight of the court, clearly adept at ignoring the jeers and glares he was experiencing now more than even before. “Hello, Allfather. You called for a show?”  
  
“You are a guest in my realm, Anthony Stark, and I will not humiliate you with wasted ceremony,” Odin began as if he hadn’t heard, though Tony felt this was ceremony enough. It was creepy, almost, how readily everybody fell silent, how they all seemed to know exactly where to stand and how to look- only the team was muttering amongst themselves, and Tony saw Clint stomp on Steve’s foot and whisper something when it looked like the soldier was about to move forward, mouth halfway open.  
  
“Cool. We gonna get on with the magic bondage now?” Tony wondered idly, surprised to see the flicker of a smile here and there. Test number one for telling which gods enjoyed the odd trip to Earth- he wasn’t at all surprised to see the pretty blond from earlier whisper something to his friend that only got him a blank, disapproving stare in return. “Or metal, I’m not too picky.”

“Stark, you should probably shut up,” Natasha advised with an approving nod, and Tony found the strength to grin at her. He didn’t like being put on different levels from the team like this- he wanted them out here, with him, or at least in a good position to back him up if things got ugly.  
  
“Not uninformed,” Odin continued, though he was probably perfectly aware of the double meaning. “You are unfamiliar with our methods, mortal?”  
  
“Obviously.”  
  
“Then listen well. You and Loki,” not  _my son_ , not  _Prince Loki_ , just Loki, “will be transfixed with matching runes of power by my hand and that of another. The spell cannot be removed except by whoever placed it, and neither seal can be erased in full while the other remains intact.”  
  
In other words, you’re both screwed if one of you is dumb enough to rush off on your own. Tony nodded, and he saw Loki do the same with some reluctance. “Sounds fun, I like tattoos. Hey, Loki, we’re gonna be twinsies.”  
  
“So long as there are no hearts around your name, it would be so terribly awkward if we ever broke up," Loki replied without missing a beat, though he swallowed thickly, eyes never leaving Odin who still wouldn’t  _look at him_.  
  
“Neither of you will be able to do any lasting harm to the other, no matter what kind it may be,” Odin continued, with an almost weary look that Tony… couldn’t understand, not from the guy who’d brought all this about. “One hundred yards will be your limit- if you pass any further from each other the runes will activate, and I will know that you have failed.”  
  
One hundred- well, that wasn’t very far. Barely down-the-hall far, and in Asgard everything was pretty damn huge. They wouldn’t have to share a room, would they? That would be... Interesting. “What do you mean ‘activate’?”

“Pain,” Thor, with that deep voice of his laced with reluctance and sorrow. “Unimaginable pain, so great you cannot move, or think. Do not test those limits, Man of Iron, for both your sakes.”

Loki scoffed and raised a mocking eyebrow at Thor, but before he could respond Odin continued- his voice so much softer than Thor’s, but able to carry so much further. “Do you still insist on this bargain?” He wondered, seeming almost hopeful that Tony would refuse. Did he have that little faith in his son, so certain that he would try and trick his way out and leave Asgard’s “guest” up for punishment?  
  
Well, fuck that. Loki was no fool, he wouldn’t break away if he couldn’t be rid of that rune, and it seemed like Odin was too clever to leave room for him to do that. “Yeah. I do.”

“So be it.” The god seemed disappointed, almost, in Tony’s decision and stood up straighter, letting his gaze sweep through the court. “The spell must be applied to both parties simultaneously. Who will assist me?”  
  
Loki flinched, barely noticeable, as a wide variety of voices spoke up almost eagerly to offer their services- all drowned out by the mere  _presence_  of Thor as he stood straighter and took one step forward, whispering something only briefly to his mother when she grabbed his arm and made some comment swallowed up by the din. “I will,” He declared, encouraging another hush along the crowd.  
  
Odin, surprisingly, didn’t nod right away- he turned toward Coulson, who didn’t even turn to see the unanimous relief from the Avengers before nodding. Diplomacy out of the way, the Allfather turned back to the centers of his show and rose slowly from his throne. “See to Loki, my son,” He ordered calmly, already walking forward with that staff of his still in hand.  
  
Tony kept his gaze steeled, though he couldn’t help wishing with a flare of panic that Thor would be the one working with him- panic dispelled by the relief in Loki’s eyes. Odin would not be kind to him, but Thor would certainly make his best attempt. “So do I need to strip for this or what?” Tony wondered brightly, quieter now that Odin was standing before him.  
  
He wasn’t dignified with a response. Odin didn’t move but he must have cast magic, because a second later there was a split down the center of Tony’s shirt, revealing just enough of his chest for the arc reactor to shine through. He tried hard not to wince, even as Odin lowered the tip of his spear to the patch of skin above it. “You do not know what you have agreed to. Loki cannot be changed,” He warned quietly, just as Tony caught sight through his peripherals of Thor attempting to speak with his brother, who stared stoically onward.  
  
“Loki  _is_  change, or have you missed the point of chaos?” Tony refuted, satisfied to see Odin’s eye narrow just a fraction. “Feel free to give up on him, but I won’t join you. The only one here who won’t change is you, Allfather.”

“Do not speak of chaos to me, boy. You know not what he will do.”  
  
“I think I do, and you, big guy? You deserve every second of it,” Not Thor, not Heimdall, certainly not Loki or the supposed “monsters”- but Odin? He was inviting Ragnarok, calling out for it, and Tony had no sympathy for him if he found it.  
  
Odin said no more, but that disappointment was back over the anger, and Tony wondered how much trouble he’d get in for knocking Odin’s teeth in. Probably a lot. He and Thor moved simultaneously-he couldn’t see more than a flash of Thor’s arm, didn’t know what he was holding- and Tony bit the inside of his lip to keep back even the slightest sound as the tip of that spear cut through his skin. Just a thin layer, but it curved, travelled slowly and deliberately, allowing time for the words of power that Thor had to murmur to himself while Odin merely forced them into compliance. It was slow, painful, and humiliating how the mark traced a perfect path around the reactor, trapping it inside some fancy swirl of a thing pretending to be a word. It had to be ten times worse for Loki though, skin still worn out and sensitive to even the lightest touch, and Tony wasn’t surprised to hear infrequent gasps or sounds half like a whimper from the other.  
  
But he kept his eyes on Odin’s one the entire time, didn’t even blink if he could help it until the moment Odin pulled that spear away, bloody at the tip. Tony glanced down at his chest and had to suppress a shudder, blood like ink dotted over a bright red wound. Odin clipped his spear against the ground once, and the scarlet vanished, leaving a grotesque white line a quarter of an inch deep in Tony’s chest, slicing here and there through the scars around his reactor. Yet it hadn’t hurt nearly as much as it could have, Tony supposed, though he felt no sort of grateful for whatever magic Odin had used to ensure that.  
  
“Then we are done. You have one month, though I fear it will not be enough,” Odin declared, as good a dismissal as any.  
  
The court exploded with sound, people stepping forward and immediately back when they caught sight of Thor’s warning look, the Avengers brushing aside god after god and making their way with varying speeds towards Tony, Frigga standing to whisper sharply to her husband.  
  
Loki, whimpering, trying weakly to fight his way free from Thor’s stubborn hug while at the same time shaking and pressing against his body, face buried from view in his brother's shoulder.

 

 

 

\------

“You are so screwed. Like, they’re going to write books on the whole new levels of screwed you’ve just achieved. People will make  _movies_ about this shit.”

Ah, Clint. Two days without those dulcet tones had been nowhere near long enough. “I wasn’t going to just leave him there, Barton. Look at ‘im, it’s like kicking a puppy.” Actually, Loki looked more like some rescue cat right now, struggling between the desire for comfort and the desire to claw Thor’s eyes out. Tony wanted to go over there and make sure the cut wasn’t anything nasty, or at least check to see that the rune hadn’t messed up his burns (definitely didn’t want to grab him and hold him close and apologize for everything, not at all), but the team was looking like varying degrees of the overbearing mother right now, so he thought he’d better wait it out.

“Odin’s become a diplomatic nightmare、” Coulson said approvingly, one of his dry smiles slightly more genuine than Tony was used to seeing. “It would have taken days to get him to agree to any change before. We’ll be lucky if we’re finished before that month is up.”

Tony grinned, but Steve was watching Loki with tight lips, clearly frustrated about something. Not the rescue-no, he was too good to resent that- but there was obviously something worrying him, and it didn’t take a genius to guess what. “He’s not going to be happy about this. What if he tries to kill Tony in the middle of the night? Nobody’ll question him sneaking around there, they have to be close.”

“I asked about that. If one of them dies so does the other, they’ll have to take good care of each other for a while,” Coulson explained flippantly. “Stark’s suggestion was drastic, but it was the best we could have gone with. Odin is determined enough to prove him wrong that he hasn’t insisted on any imprisonment or recompense for the jailbreak. We have another month to work this out, and the Fantastic Four have agreed to handle the Avenger’s duties in New York for a while. The X-men will jump in if things get out of hand, or contact us if anything too dangerous pops up.”

“You get cell service in Asgard or what?”

“Unlike you, Stark, I don’t get road sick on the bifrost. I’ve been moving back and forth for the past four days.”

“I know we have to do something about this, but chaining him to Tony is a bit… drastic、” Bruce pointed out, watching Loki with a sort of back-of-the-mind distrust. He’d never hated the god like the rest of them had, but he’d always been very… careful around him. The rest of them had noticed Loki’s insanity (no nicer word for it, especially now that his behavior had been explained) and only really cared that it meant he was dangerous, like a time-bomb that kept resetting itself. Bruce, though, was a bit of a time bomb himself, maybe that was why he’d never behaved outright maliciously toward the god. “He can’t kill him, but he can do some pretty bad stuff. Especially if you sleep within a hundred yards of the suit.”

“It’ll be one fifty away from me at all times, unless I’m actively monitoring it,” Tony decided, waving off that bit of concern. The suit he could rebuild, easily, and if Loki wanted to destroy it he would- being bound to Tony had nothing to do with that. “Not saying he’ll be the perfect houseguest, but he won’t do anything right away. Odin’s punishment would be a lot worse than sticking with me for a month.”

“Well, don’t make it too easy for him. The guy doesn’t exactly deserve a vacation,” Clint muttered, which seemed to be the general consensus of the court. Or, well, closer to it than Tony’s- the Asgardians were mostly ignoring them now, but a few looked outright murderous at his involvement. Most notably the Amazoness or whatever she was, who was glaring at Tony so strongly he half expected to be run through the second he stepped too close.

Actually, he’d have to look out for that. Rogue Asgardians who thought killing the mortal would be an easy path to getting rid of their resident Trickster- at least he could count on Loki’s help in that case. For a month each of their lives was as precious as the other’s. “You know, I’m thinking he just might. Somebody’s got to teach that guy that people can care about each other- he thinks people treat him well only out of obligation. Seems to get torture, but not much else.” Hence the whole mass destruction and wide-scale casualties his little schemes cooked up. Expecting him to do anything else was like expecting a kid to shake hands when he’d been greeted with a slap his entire life.

“Last I checked, daddy issues weren’t a legal cause for pardon of genocide charges.”

“He doesn’t know any better. Any rough treatment’ll just make him worse right now.”

“You make him sound like a child.” Steve now, though whether the reprimand in his tone was aimed towards Tony’s defense of Loki or his description of him was hard to tell. “He doesn’t want to be your friend, Tony.”

“Oh, no, he probably wants to kill me,” Tony conceded, shrugging. Loki didn’t like any of them, not even Thor- he didn’t seem to like much of anybody, in fact, other than his own children, maybe his mother as well. They were probably the only ones who’d never done him direct harm, even if the Avengers had been more than justified in dolling out a few beatings here and there. “But he won’t. You’d be surprised what I can do in a month.”

Or three, really, but Tony didn’t have terrorists to fight now- and it was usually easier to make repairs than to build, four weeks would have to be enough time to get some change out of Loki. Right? As if reading his mind Bruce shook his head, looking more reluctant than anything. “He’s not a machine, Tony.”

“Think I don’t know that? If it doesn’t work, whatever, but I didn’t break him out just so they could torture him again the moment he got away from the healers.”

“Stark, keep your voice down,” Natasha warned suddenly, glaring at something he couldn’t see. Tony followed her gaze and was unsurprised to see more than a few interested parties looking their way, and even more watching Loki as if they couldn’t wait for Thor to walk off so they could have their gloating time. Not the best place to be having this conversation.

Well, not like he could just walk out- he had a tag along now, and he was pretty sure the exit was at least a hundred yards away, considering how huge this place was. When Tony turned to call for Loki to follow, however, he saw Thor already walking over (more or less dragging his brother, who was protesting but too weakly to offer much real resistance). “Anthony. My brother needs rest, would y-“

“Yup, sounds great. Loki, wanna go for a walk? Scratch that, you look awful. I’m guessing we’ll need a room with two beds now, let’s go get that settled, then it’s time for a nap. I’ve been up getting thrown off horses and stealing from gods the past two days, a break sounds good,” Tony replied quickly, giving nobody much time to either protest or agree. Thor looked relieved, but Loki was glaring at him as if he thought the idea of sharing a room was the worst fate imaginable. Well, whatever, Tony wanted to keep an eye on the guy, and no use risking some magical beat-down from Odin’s runes.

“Tony, we need to talk to you-“ Steve insisted, clasping a light but very Captain-y hand on Tony’s shoulder, eyes gleaming with business and a very familiar sense of ‘arguing will get you nowhere’.

But when had that ever worked on him? Tony brushed his way free barely a second later, shuffling a little so that he stood beside Loki and could throw an exaggeratedly friendly arm around his shoulder. The god winced and narrowed his eyes, but didn’t make any verbal complaint just yet.

“Tony-“

“Leave it, Steve,” Clint suggested, rolling his eyes at the sight. He fixed Loki with a bitter look, but seemed resigned to treating him as tolerable company for the next month at least. A big step for him. “These two’ve got to get to their honeymoon.”

Thor frowned at the metaphor and started to protest, but Loki only smiled sharply-the way he always did, that made Tony think of battle, and death, and pain above all else- and nodded. “Shame we couldn’t get a proper dress for the wedding. Stark would look so good in white.”

“Husbands call their wives by first name, you know,” Tony chided, doing his best to ignore the look he was getting from Thor and trying not to look too amused by the notion.

“Do they? Hm.”

“Rude.”

“Stark.” Tony looked up again, startled not by the rough tone but because Steve hadn’t called him by his last name since they’d stopped trying to rip out each other’s emotional throats every ten seconds. The soldier sighed and shook his head, anger ebbing away into something Tony didn’t quite understand. “Figure out what you’re doing, quickly. A month is nothing.”

“Of course it isn’t. Time is never “nothing”,” Tony retorted, reaching up to tap the reactor, which stubbornly glowed through even his darkest shirts. “And I’ll never have much of it.”

With that he turned and started his walk of shame through the court, well aware that Loki would have no choice but to follow and hoping Thor would be smart enough to keep the team at bay. A month. Not much, but it was enough, despite whatever they said. The shrapnel never left-blood clots could build up, veins could be cut- and his heart never stopped fighting it-over activity leading to an attack, pressure ripping a hole in it- and he never ceased to think about how easily and suddenly he could fall down dead. No, he didn’t have much time, but that just meant he appreciated it all the more.

A month to them was nothing, but that's why it was Tony doing this, Tony who saw a  _point_.

 

 

 

\------

As it turned out, Asgard didn’t _have_ two-bed rooms.

You were either a married couple, who slept with his/her spouse, a child who could cuddle with their siblings, or a single teen or adult who should be alone anyway. The rooms just weren’t built to fit two beds, especially not the size they were built in this place, so in the end Tony and Loki were shown to the latter’s royal chambers, to the shock and disapproval of the general populace. So they’d hurried back to Eir, confirmed that the runes weren’t going to be doing either of them any damage, learned the (un?)happy story of their rooming conditions, run off to the kitchens and eaten breakfast with cooks bustling about (Loki had refused absolutely to go anywhere near large groups of living people, and Tony wasn’t inclined to protest), gone over a lengthy description of Sleipnir’s involvement in Loki’s rescue, then finally gone, without bothering about lunch, to shut the door behind them in Loki’s private room.

Which would have been awesome for jokes, innuendoes, and possibly blackmail a few weeks down the road- except the moment they reached his room Loki drew away from Tony (who had, once again, ended up supporting him after a few particularly nasty waves of pain) and staggered toward his bed before collapsing on it. Elegantly, too, though Tony had no idea how somebody could manage to elegantly collapse- Loki just broke the rules that way.

The poor guy looked awful. He’d seen Loki in bad states before, but nothing compared to the burn scars all along his chest, searing around that white-hot rune. It looked like Thor had done a cleaner job than Odin, at least, and the cut could only have been an eighth of an inch thick, but the lines were more jagged, a little shaken. Thor didn’t have his dad’s precision, or maybe he’d just been a lot more reluctant to be stuck doing the job he’d asked for. Either way, the sharp lines were, like Tony’s, mimicking perfectly healed scars already- but something about them looked… off. More painful.

Tony should have been searching the room, calling for a servant to bring his stuff then unpacking what little he’d brought/accumulated (mostly at the courtesy of hosts who probably didn’t want him walking around in torn clothing that was about ten seconds away from falling into dust), or at least cleaning up in the nearby bathroom. He couldn’t call the team over-for which he was more thankful than he should have been-and he was tired but not quite enough to pass out for the rest of the day  _and_  night, and didn’t want to fuck up his sleep schedule more than he already had. So obviously the next best course of action was to crouch beside Loki while he slept and study his face curiously, watching for some sign of pain, maybe a whispered word to give Tony some hint about what he was supposed to  _do_  here.

He’d never been the best person with emotions- though things were a little easier when they weren’t his own- and Loki had enough baggage to fill an airport. Maybe it would be best just to talk, act normally and drag Loki along for the ride. A taste of a normal life couldn’t be too bad, especially for a messed up god-

“It’s rude to stare,” Loki lectured calmly, not even bothering to open his eyes. Tony jumped back half a foot, raising a hand to check the rhythm of his heart and staring down at the taller man, eyes wide. Jesus effing- The god opened one eye and smiled smugly, giving up the illusion of sleep a moment before sitting up at last. “If you’re tired, get to sleep. I don’t want you staring at me all day.”

“I’ve been out for… what, six hours? That’s all the sleep I need.” Really, the potion had done enough- he was content to just… well, do nothing, really. He wasn’t about to keep Loki awake, so he couldn’t leave, but there wasn’t much of interest in the room itself.

“Not enough. The potion isn’t meant for mortals- if you don’t sleep it off sooner or later you’ll only end up passing out,” Loki warned without much interest, turning away from Tony-gingerly, doing his best not to damage his burnt up body, shifting to keep the blanket just up to his waist. “And you’ll need be up by midnight anyway. Eir will throw a fit if I’m late.”

Ah, right, twice a day drop-ins. Tony’d be the one in trouble if they missed out on those, so he’d have to make sure to be conscious whenever they came about. “Well rest up, then- she’ll be pissed if you pass out on the way to your appointment.” Easiest just not to sleep until the next one, at this point. He’d call a servant, tell them to bring whatever tools they had and the almost charge-less pieces of his suit from the other room. Maybe a piece of paper and pen, he could draft up some new ideas he’d had for a quicker model. Most of them, admittedly, inspired by the structure of Sleipnir’s body- if he could mimic not the eight legs but the way he  _moved_ …

Loki scoffed and rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment. He seemed actually headed to sleep this time, physically no different but for the way his arms pulled his pillow a little closer to his body than normal. Not quite clinging to the thing, but definitely hugging it, to say the least.

Oh, no, that just didn’t work. Tony cringed inwardly at the sight-Loki probably didn’t even know he was  _doing_  it, latching on like he had to Thor, all instinct. A new resolution temporarily replaced the old one, and Tony stepped around the bed, kicked off his shoes, and lay down opposite Loki on his own side of the giant mattress. The god didn’t respond at first, assuming Tony was just catching up on his own sleep, but tensed like a snake when a pair of arms suddenly pulled him in and held him tight, careful to avoid the worst of the burns (which was no easy task, for the record).  
  
“There. This is better, right?” Tony muttered, close enough to whisper into Loki’s ear. The god didn’t respond, verbally or physically, but remained poised to strike, sharp and slightly shaken in Tony’s arms. He would probably have killed him if not for the rune, or shoved him aside if he didn’t want to “appease” his temporary warden, but Tony would deal with that. Somebody had to give the guy a damn hug once in a while.  
  
Loki didn’t fall pliant, didn’t relax into Tony’s touch. He stayed reluctant and tense until the moment sleep overtook him, and even then there was something wary about his body which made the instinctual movement toward contact more reluctant than sleep would usually allow. Well, whatever, he’d made his point. Tony started to extract himself, but Loki made some quiet noise of protest and he  _knew_  it was all instinct-he’d made that clear enough while awake- but he was still hot with fever, and leaving him alone after whatever torture the rune had put him through…  
  
Oh, well. Tony sighed and resigned himself to a little while longer wrapping his arms around Loki, both entirely clothed in bed. It was a lot nicer than he’d thought, and there was no denying that Loki’s was a nice body to have close by, so Tony didn’t exactly protest. Another ten minutes, maybe fifteen, and he’d get on with those plans. This would do for now, though.

 

 

\-----

Things could have been much worse.  
  
Loki was surprisingly cordial while they were stuck together, and he even consented and often suggested searching the city, dining with the others, watching the bouts (though he himself didn't join in on the sparring, at Eir’s furious insistence following the first attempt), and one horrible attempt by the Warriors Three to teach Tony how to hunt. He’d been worried that the god would be so weak or bitter that he’d insist on holing up with a book, or simply glare and pout the entire time they were around any sort of company, but he was as social and friendly as his body would allow. Tony figured he was determined to get through this month and be free of Odin’s planned punishments- much as he wished it weren’t the case, he could always see that familiar spark of madness and often hatred to prove that Loki’s behavior may have changed, but his attitude certainly hadn’t.  
  
Nobody believed it, really. Tony wanted to punch every idiot who cast Loki a suspicious glare whenever he walked by, or muttered under their breath when he feigned a friendly welcome. Sif-as he’d finally learned was the Amazoness’ name- was the worst of the lot. Even Thor seemed to have trouble trusting his brother, and Tony could see how much that hurt Loki, made him want to lash out and prove them right. The low expectations may have been accurate, but they definitely weren’t doing any good.  
  
The Avengers gave things a shot, or at least more than Tony would have expected. None of them were too happy, at first, to have Loki tagging along whenever they wanted to do anything as a team (more failed hunting, practice fights, goofy “quests”, as Clint called them, which usually meant killing freaky animals with scales instead of fur or vice versa), and Loki made it clear the feeling was mutual. Thor, though, was ecstatic. As far as he could see he’d gotten his brother back-no matter how questionable his motives may be- and none of them dared even look annoyed in case they ruined that golden-retriever happiness. Surprisingly, though, he started to grow on them. Loki, when he wasn’t trying to kill, intimidate, or maim you, had a natural charm that even the Avengers had a tough time ignoring after a few days of max exposure.  
  
Weirdly enough it was Clint he grew on first, despite their… disagreeable past. Apparently the Asgardians were no big fan of archery, and when they’d caught the tail-ends of a few very direct insults at Clint’s choice of style it seemed to have struck a nerve in the god, and both verbal assailants had run off to Eir with mysterious mouse ears, tails, and paws in the place of hands. When they eventually attempted their own retaliation, a quick spar showed archery was quite badass enough, and as per usual the Asgardian ethic set in and they were quite pleasant after having their asses kicked. Mostly people were too surprised that Clint had stepped in and demanded to take the challenge offered to Loki to actually care about the outcome. Loki himself included, though it gave him an honorable excuse not to make his injuries any worse.  
  
Odin was no big adversary- in fact, he seemed determined just to avoid them, stay completely uninvolved in their trial. Unfortunately that meant he ensured Frigga did too, so Tony couldn’t count on the badass queen to steer him in the right direction, and Loki’s kids were kept well out of reach. Shame, too, because if anybody could convince him to “comply” it would be that lot. They did however meet Tyr once, which would have been cool if Tony hadn’t tried to punch him and been dragged away by Steve before he could even shift his weight properly. Bastard deserved to lose the other arm, maybe a leg or two while he was at it. All about honor until it involved tricking a giant wolf, then it was perfectly okay because he was a  _monster_ , after all.

Really, it turned out that in the end Tony was the biggest problem- mostly because he was the only one Loki seemed to have any genuine good will toward. None of the others doubted it, either, but they were for the most part willing to go along with Tony’s policy of forced friendship (and it wasn’t hard for any of them, though none would outright admit it but Steve) and didn’t care so long as Loki was off their case for at least a month. No mutually assured destruction, as usually followed his attacks on some unfortunate city. Good deal all around, safe- right?  
  
Tony just couldn’t help it, really. He was sort of in-tune with whatever area of the universe caused people to fuck up, and before he knew it he found himself studying the muscles of Loki’s legs as he walked, the eerie smiles he gave in search for one that was real, the warmth of his body when he gave in, every night, and let Tony hold him while they slept. He was constantly worrying over his injuries, and getting into verbal fights (and once physical, that had been a bitch to patch up) with anybody who insulted or went after Loki, and trying to watch him and make him happy whenever opportunity presented itself.  
  
Yeah, he had it bad. Loki was just too  _beautiful_  to ignore, refined and sexy and Tony wanted to pin him down and get on to more in-depth research, devour him even though he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against Loki, in bed or out of it. And it just wasn’t fair, for about a million reasons- Tony acted on the demands of his body, and it had never failed him before, but he couldn’t do that here. For one thing, Loki would probably kill him for the attempt. For another, he was still all burnt up and miserable. And then there was Thor, who would probably rip him open, The Avengers, who would probably kick him off the team, and the fact that Loki was so unfamiliar with even the simplest forms of genuine compassion that he’d probably have an aneurism if Tony tried to kiss him.  
  
The worst part was that he sucked at hiding it. Steve kept shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Clint had a nasty habit of grinning and winking whenever Tony tried to talk to Loki, Bruce had warned him to remember his job and Natasha had pulled him aside for the scariest lecture of his life.  
  
“If you hurt him, I swear to god I will blame  _you_  for each and every casualty when he decides to blow up an orphanage,” She hissed in conclusion, despite the god in question being about thirty feet away, deep in a rather angry conversation with his brother.  
  
“I don’t think he kills kids. Might go after a college though, I don’t think they count.”  
  
Natasha was not amused. “It’s been one damn week, Stark, don’t fuck this up now.”  
  
Yeah, that was helpful. The thing was, the more people told him off the more intriguing Loki became, and the more Tony wanted to do  _something_  to convince him that he deserved a second chance.

Two weeks in, things kind of went to hell- in the best way possible.  
  
Loki hadn’t gotten any more compliant with Tony holding him every night, though he never fought him and in sleep always seemed relieved for the contact, but the fact was that he  _did_  do it every night. It had taken eleven days for Eir to remove his bandages, revealing slightly sore skin entirely devoid of scars, - enough to fool anybody who didn’t bother to look for the ones beneath the skin- and on each of those nights they’d come back from the infirmary, argued over some scientific topic or another, then Loki had yawned or Tony’d glanced at the bed too many times, and it was off to sleep for both of them. Loki reached for the pillow, Tony took his hands and held him close, waited to see if he’d fight though he never did. In the morning, Loki was clean cut and ready for the day, impatient for Tony to get up and about so they could both leave the room.  
  
It was a ritual, and Tony hated rituals.

That night, though, Loki was wired. He’d spent the day on the combat grounds for the first time since one failed attempt only days after the runes were placed, and had been happy to throw the best of them around the ring with a few clever tricks and more strength than he should have fairly possessed. He looked like a tiger ready to spring the rest of the day, watching them all with various definitions of intensity, and Tony was almost too nervous to try and “restrain” him that night.  
  
So he just laid down next to him, hoping a body in the bed would be enough comfort to draw up whatever warm memories it always did. “Congrats on the fight, big guy,” Tony muttered with a yawn that was only half drowsiness. Two weeks, almost two weeks. Halfway there, and Loki hadn’t done anything to get himself on Odin’s blacklist again- they might get out of this without landing him some horrible pain, if they were lucky.  
  
“Which one?” Loki wondered, sitting at the edge of the bed and watching him curiously.  
  
“All of ‘em. Except for the one with Thor, he kind of threw you around. But you kicked everyone else’s ass.” Was that safe to say? Apparently, because Loki only smiled, and Tony had learned to tell when that meant  _danger_ and when it meant… well, whatever else it meant. He hadn’t worked that out yet.  
  
“Well, thank you then,” Loki replied quietly, then leaned down and kissed him.  
  
Whoa. What. Tony’s mind sputtered out and decided it wanted to stop working for the moment, but his body had other ideas- Loki’s lips tasted and felt as good as he’d imagined (had he imagined this? Yeah, probably, almost definitely) and he responded without a second’s thought, leaning into the kiss almost hungrily and letting his hands settle on the god’s hips, barely aware that Loki had set one leg on either side of Tony’s own waist until he drew away for air.  
  
Okay, reality, come back to me now. “Wh-what?” Not Tony’s most articulate, but he felt he deserved pretty high marks for being able to speak at all right now. Wow, Loki was good with his mouth- and that was just a kiss. A soft, chaste kiss, a bit of lip sucking but no tongue and nothing bruising. “Um, think you gotta explain that one.”  
  
“You’ve been looking at me,” Loki explained calmly, as if this were the most logical explanation for his behavior. He didn’t even draw back, only tilted his head so that he could get a better angle to work at Tony’s neck, now that his lips were busy with speech.  
  
Tony shivered, turning to make more room for Loki to get at his throat without really realizing he was doing it. Wait, no- this wasn’t right. With a great degree of effort he pulled his hands back to push Loki up, just enough pressure for the god to take the hint and sit up straight, frowning in confusion. “Yeah, I definitely have- not an automatic calling card for sex, though.”

With him? Yes, it almost definitely was, but Loki… He didn’t look like he always did whenever he was treading unfamiliar territory, but there was definitely something wary about the way he was holding himself. Not like he thought they shouldn’t be doing this, but like he was scared to see how Tony would respond. “I’ve heard your reputation, Stark. I’m surprised you waited long enough for me to start things.”  
  
Try and get that through your foggy head, Tony. Start things. That could have just meant… well, whatever they were doing or about to do, but maybe it was the rune talking but Tony had other ideas. Like in the back of his mind this  _wasn't_  sudden for Loki, wasn’t how you rushed things- he didn’t know affection, and he didn’t understand or want friendship in the normal sense. But lust, sex, the stifled groan another touch of his teeth to neck drew out- all were familiar, frequent friends to them both. Tony wasn’t an enemy, and Loki was convinced he couldn’t be a friend and worried to hold him as anything else. A lover, though? That was fine.

Loki was trying to make him into something he could understand- and that… that was wrong. Bad. Tony had done drunk sex before, but only if both parties had long since left sober, or at the very least  _he_  was the tipsy one- but this wasn’t quite consensual in a way different sense. Loki was an insecure mess, responding to him would be like…. looking for a one night stand in a psyche ward.  
  
“I’m not- I don’t look at you for just your body, that’s not-“ God, dammit. Tony groaned again, finding it nearly impossible to form proper speech with Loki sucking and biting at his neck. And oh  _god_  was he good at it. Focus, Tony- on what, exactly?

“I know," Loki assured, and that made him pause because wait, what? Loki smiled (he could feel it, not see it, and licked his lips despite himself at how close they were) and drew back a moment later, only inches away from his face but enough to get a good look at him. “You’re different. With you, I would not be doing this if I hadn’t seen you looking- you’re a poor liar, Stark, I know you see… something in me that you like. I’m not ready to give that up yet, whatever it is.”  
  
“Not ready to date, but ready for sex.” God, too much all at once- did Loki want to work  _backwards_? He’d known girls and guys like that on Earth, people who thought sex was no big deal but wouldn’t touch relationships. He was one of them, sometimes, whenever the right girl was nowhere to be found. But somebody who-seemingly-wanted to get closer but thought sex was starting slow and anything chaste meant they’d gotten far down the road? New to him.  
  
But it made sense, with Loki. Loki, who didn’t understand treatment beyond this, but could see that Tony had found something in him that was good and wanted it, not to manipulate or break but just  _wanted_  it. Of course he’d be reluctant to pass that… whatever it was on to Tony for inspection.  
  
He looked up at Loki, failing to read the god’s expression. For a moment he was silent, both of them breathing a little quickly, and knew he was being given a choice here. Stop, and back off before things got bad, or agree and see where it took him. Not an easy decision to make coherently with Loki straddling him.  
  
“You’re beautiful,” Tony decided, surprised to hear himself say it. Loki tensed up like he’d been hit, familiar suspicion settling in to those brilliant, bright eyes, “Like broken glass. And I’m going to prove it to you.”  
  
And this time he moved forward, claimed Loki in a kiss of his own, arms wrapping around his waist- and for the first time, Loki molded to his touch.

Now that Tony had time to think he realized that Loki tasted  _good_. His skin was cold, yes, and his breath colder, but his lips and tongue simmered with the husky taste of ash, like smoked meat or cracking logs in the Earth. Tony had no idea what he tasted like himself, but whatever it was made Loki hum appreciatively and push him back against the bed with renewed vigor. Apparently Tony’s agreement meant something to him, because Loki’s earlier advances suddenly seemed as chaste as a kiss on the hand. His lips were bruising, and his teeth knew just where to bite so that Tony shivered against Loki’s lips, allowed complete dominance of the kiss even when he cleared his mind enough to make conscious decisions.  
  
He almost forgot to breathe, and even then only stopped long enough to swallow in air, never breaking the connection of their mouths. Yeah, he definitely liked kissing Loki- and he wanted to be able to do it again, a soft brush of the lips in the mornings, a quick hello or thank you or goodbye, even just because. But that would come later. For now Tony sucked impatiently at Loki’s bottom lip and pulled him closer downward, brushing together. And oh, well, Loki was  _definitely_  enjoying this as much as he was.  
  
His own voice was stifled with a good deal of effort, but Loki was unabashed in his pleasure, made some startled, delicious sound that dissolved into a moan when Tony rocked his hips half on instinct. One hand left Loki’s waist and hooked in the band of his pants (thank god he was dressed for bed and not battle- that coat would have been a bitch to get off), but before he could tug them down more than three inches logic came back to punch Tony in the nose, and he struggled to speak without letting any space sneak between them. “I’m not breaking some kind of Asgardian law, right? Is Thor going to kill me for defiling his brother?” Important for both of them, though there was fear for himself, yeah. Tony didn’t want to get his ass kicked by an angry god of thunder, but he also didn’t want this to be taken as some excuse for their agreement to be null and void, a reason to drag Loki off for torture because his “warden” clearly had other things on the mind.  
  
“There is no law against it, the court won’t care. As for Thor… well, let this be our little secret, yes?” A sly smile and a finger against Tony’s lips, preluding a kiss for his jawline, neck, down toward the collarbone and all along it.  
  
“If I get hammered in the face, I’m blaming you.” Good, no laws, no reason to further Loki’s punishment. That out of the way, Tony was free to fumble with slipping Loki’s pants down far enough that the god kicked them aside himself before sitting back slightly, stopping his ministrations long enough for Tony to rid him of the tunic that was just barely long enough to keep things interesting.

Loki shirtless was nothing new to Tony, but there was something mesmerizing about having the sight  _given_  to him, pale flesh and paler scars sculpted along a form too carved not to be beautiful. Nearly all his body had some sort of scar, in fact, even his inner thighs, perfect lines looping around like razor wire had wrapped over his leg.  _Chains,_  part of Tony said, but he ignored that knowledge and licked his lips in lust, determined to make sure Loki enjoyed everything that beautiful body could take- from kiss-bruised lips down to his swollen cock (and, yes, Tony could totally believe he was a giant, now). “This is real, right? I’m not having some amazing wet dream?”  
  
“Fortunately,” Loki purred, seeming relaxed by the way Tony was watching him. Tony had the feeling he wasn’t the first to tumble into bed with Loki, eyes blown with lust and practically  _starving_  to be with him. Familiar ground, that was good. “This is easier if we’re both unclothed, you know.”

Ah, right. Tony hastened to remove himself to a state of similar undress, aided by Loki so that they only had to cease contact for a few seconds before they were pressing their lips together again. Tony hooked one leg around Loki’s, pulling him as close as he could, one hand settled on his hips and the other grabbing for a fistful of black hair. The god pinned him by the upper arms, again dominating the hungry kiss, and rolled his hips to pull a moan from Tony, who couldn’t quite hold back this time. They were far from gentle, now, practically wrestling in the bed, lips breaking apart only to allow infrequent gasps of pleasure or longing. Pressed so close, each movement sending shockwaves of heat up Tony’s spine- but it wasn’t enough, nowhere near what either of them needed.  
  
“Do you have, uh… A-?” It was much harder to think of the right word than it should have been, but Loki seemed to find the lapse of proper thought more endearing than anything, and smiled as he shook his head.  
  
“No need. Magic can be quite handy, you know.” Loki assured breathlessly, barely pausing before continuing the rough kiss, always breaking just long enough for words to tumble out. “You just- _ah_ \- take what you want, Stark.”  
  
What an offer. Tony moaned as much from the words as from the brush of their bodies, eagerly returned Loki’s kiss and tried to work out just what he  _did_  want. Loki, any way he could have him- in bed or out of it, but since they were moving toward the former… “Turn over, on your back.” He decided at last, and Loki’s lip twitched in amusement at the commanding tone but he complied anyway, hooking his leg around Tony’s waist as he did, so that they were rolled over simultaneously and could fall back into that kiss with barely a second’s interruption.  
  
It was weird having Loki pinned beneath him, but it was comforting both because hey, Tony could only ignore his body’s demands for so long, but also because he felt like he could block out the rest of whatever world and protect him from here. Probably not- he could see the scars from how well he’d “protected” him from Odin’s latest punishment, but he would do better next time. Wouldn’t let there  _be_  a next time, if this month could actually fix anything. “Going to make me wait all night?” Loki wondered, voice slightly strained by the constant movement that was just mocking them both.  
  
“Shush. I’ve never slept with a god before, let me savor the moment.”  
  
Loki’s laugh was one of the few pleasant ones Tony had heard yet, and he was pleased to feel the god’s lips turn up in a lingering smile. Enough of that, though. Loki’s neck was pale white and one of the few unmarred bits of his body- perfect for Tony to duck down and mark up in a much better way, sucking at the skin and biting just slightly until he felt Loki shivering underneath him. He arched his back impatiently, making Tony break his ministrations with a gasp from the pressure of flesh against flesh. Fuck- drawing this out wasn’t going to work, if he didn’t get a hold of himself this would be over before it even started.

“You guys use vegetable oil or what?” Tony muttered, nipping Loki’s neck once more impatiently, guiding his hands down the length of the god’s side until he could settle on his thighs and nudge them back impatiently.  
  
Loki drew his legs back compliantly and wrapped them both around Tony’s back, taking care now to just barely avoid contact. “Again, magic.”

That stuff really was convenient, though he doubted Loki was applying any spells in the way they’d been originally intended. Still, Tony wasn’t about to complain, and out of precaution more than anything freed one hand to trace against Loki’s entrance. He shuffled impatiently and tried to move down, but Tony had him well and truly pinned. He got a quick bite to the ear for his teasing, and Tony waited still a moment longer before obliging to slip a finger inside. The muscle was unresisting and ready, apparently thanks to some unorthodox spell, and Loki just gasped obligingly and demanded more in a curt voice, and Tony was more than willing to concede. Two fingers inside Loki and he groaned, startled at how  _tight_  he was and desperate to absorb himself in that clinging heat. For now, though, he pressed in to the second knuckle and waited a moment for Loki to adjust, listening to the god moan encouragingly before consenting to actually move.  
  
Loki gasped and shuddered, arched his back with a startled sound of pleasure when Tony curled his fingers experimentally. “Magic’s, uh- really convenient,” Tony muttered, busying himself by continuing his earlier painting of Loki’s neck, angling his head just enough to watch the trickster shutting his eyes and panting lightly with pleasure.  
  
He’d expected Loki to be reserved, the type to keep quiet in sex and enjoy himself in silence. But he was anything but, willingly going along with whatever sounds a third finger and deeper pressure brought about. It was driving Tony crazy, and he had a feeling Loki knew it, too- he was probably being so vocal  _because_  his partner was enjoying it. He was clever, knew what it took to get what he wanted, and Tony didn’t give a damn that he was being manipulated because anything was worth the startled, heavy-eyed moan Loki gave when Tony found that too-sweet bundle of nerves.  
  
He moved about impatiently, panting already himself, until a light curl and push brought an actual cry from Loki and drove the god’s hips up eagerly. Yeah, definitely ready. “You are just  _unfair,_ ” Tony groaned, withdrawing his fingers and shivering at the protesting groan this brought from Loki.  
  
He ceased his complaining, however, when Tony had wiped his hand clean then grabbed for his hips on both sides. Loki spread his legs a little further to make more room, looking a very sexy sort of anticipatory, and Tony kissed him again as roughly as he could. He wanted this to last as long as possible, wanted to bear over Loki and  _feel_  him, and when he entered Loki at last he did so at an agonizingly slow pace. Oh  _god_  he felt amazing, and twice Tony had to stop and catch his breath, forehead pressed against Loki’s shoulder as the trickster bucked his hips and moaned, a gasping mess by the time Tony pressed inside fully.

He felt good, almost too good- Tony groaned and tightened his grip on Loki’s hips almost too roughly, struggling to get used to the heat flooding into him through Loki, who’d grabbed a fistful of his hair in one hand and of sheet in the other. His eyes were closed tight and his head was tilted back, lips slightly parted and whole body flushed against Tony’s- perfection that moaned again when Tony tested movement at last, a slow rocking of his hips that sent sparks up the base of his spine.  
  
“Ah- G-go on, Stark,  _move,_ ” Loki’s words were little more than gasps, breathy gusts of air that he probably just  _knew_  Tony couldn’t resist.  
  
“Patience is a virtue,” Tony pointed out with a great deal of effort, nearly breaking on a moan of his own as he obliged and thrust in earnest, quickly setting a slow but steady tempo that went hard and  _deep_. Loki’s body was pliant now, each jerk of the god’s hips bringing him in further and harder and Jesus  _Christ_  he was so, so tight.

The hand in his hair tightened urgently as Loki began to move in time with Tony’s body, gasping out encouragement. “Oh, oh yes. You feel so- ah,  _Stark_ ,” Practically pleading, hushed words that ended with a drawn out moan when Tony once more found his neck and then his cock at the same time, pulling a hand back to wrap around the latter in search of more of those delicious noises. He was straining to remain silent himself, bucking his hips more quickly by the moment despite his convictions that this had to last. “ _Yes._  Oh, just like that- gods, you feel  _wonderful,_ ” Loki purred, panting and practically whining in desperation, driving quickly in time with Tony-which was not helping him drag this out at all, but felt fucking amazing all the same.  
  
Loki really just didn’t keep quiet, but that was all the same for Tony. A moan slipped through his lips and he bit it back with a rough kiss for Loki’s neck, but the pressure building up in his gut couldn’t be so easily ignored. Not yet- no way was he going to lose it before Loki did, god or not. At last a particularly rough thrust brought an actual cry from Loki, and he was satisfied to hear the god’s hand scrambling for a better hold on the sheets.  
  
“Th-there. Do that-do that again,” Loki demanded. And Tony obliged, again and again, so within a minute Loki was practically writhing beneath him, crying out in pleasure with increasing volume until Tony was sure  _someone_  must be able to hear it. Didn’t really care if they did.  
  
Words refused to come when Tony struggled to speak, nothing but Loki’s name over and over, kissed against the hot skin of his neck as his hips moved faster still. Loki was clenched tight with strain, and Tony needed only a few jerks of his hand to pull one final cry from the god. He drove his hips through his orgasm and Tony rode it out, panting hard and barely holding himself back until Loki was limp and breathless against the bed, finally giving in to his body’s demands and calling Loki’s name as his vision flashed white.  
  
Lucky Loki was so big, because Tony barely managed the effort to lower himself slowly, let alone fall completely to the side. The air felt hot and heavy with their labored breath and the smell of sweat and sex, and every nerve of Tony’s body tingled, over-sensitive and too heavy to move. He pulled out of Loki with a good bit of effort but didn’t move away, only drew up what remained of his energy to plant another lazy kiss against the god’s flushed collarbone.  
  
Thank god for magic. With a flick of his wrist Loki had them both cleaned up, and Tony used the energy he’d saved for that to roll them both onto their sides and wrap his arms around the other man. He knew cuddling was filed more under Loki’s definition of “moving fast’, but it wasn’t like they could move to separate beds or anything, and a pleading look earned him a smile too blissed-out to care. “Tonight, then.” He promised in a semi-slurred voice, either newly willing to relax or too tired not to.  
  
“So long as we do this again sometime. I mean wow.” Tony murmured with a yawn, giving up on consciousness and closing his eyes resignedly. He was pretty sure he heard Loki chuckle, but after that he was silent and Tony knew no more until morning. No more, that is, but for the dream-like memory of half awaking to spot a rare smile on Loki’s face as he looked down at Tony, seemingly deep in sleep.

 

 

\----

Breakfast the next day was  _not_  a comfortable affair.  
  
Loki didn’t like being around people, but Tony couldn’t completely shut himself away, so rather than dining with everyone else they ate with the others in more private settings, about an hour late or early. In today’s case, late enough to rise that the halls were virtually empty but for those who expected them to take their time and waited it out. Nobody had any complaints though, unless you counted Clint’s whining that it was really annoying having to “stake the place out just to get some fucking bacon”. It was probably weird for them, the shifting schedules, but it was exactly the sort of thing Tony did on a daily basis, so he was more than happy to eat in comfort despite the ever-present annoyance when the Warriors Three were around.  
  
Actually, he liked them as people, but he couldn’t stand the way  _they_  treated Loki. And Sif was just freaky, like a meaner and much less amusing version of Natasha with less breasts and more deadly glaring.  
  
The only real problem, though, came from the Avengers- specifically Natasha herself and, as luck would have it, Bruce. Tony and Loki were being subtle, really, they didn’t act any differently and much as he wanted to wrap an arm around the god’s waist or kiss him on the cheek in “greeting” Loki wouldn’t even let them sit next to each other. (It couldn’t have been more obvious that he was setting their weird backwards-relationship's pace, and Tony was perfectly happy to let him. Well, not quite happy, but it was safer that way.) Yet somehow it took about ten seconds and a quick glance for each of them for Natasha to fix him with the most disapproving look he’d ever seen, and Bruce to shake his head and mutter something about angry thunder gods.  
  
“What?” Tony demanded, though neither of them gave him an answer. He turned to Loki, hoping the god might have made more sense out of their magical knowledge of his bedroom exploits, but he was busy eating and apparently paying them no attention. Tony’d had some secret fear that the god would be one of those guys who never ate, practically starved himself to be as thin as he was out of depression or fear or the need to control  _something_ , but Loki wolfed down at least as much as his brother did. More, usually.  
  
“Later, Stark. Just you wait,” Natasha muttered, and a quick glance at Thor was plenty of explanation for her silence. Couldn’t have the big guy finding out about his fun with Loki, now could they?  
  
Great. Now Clint was whispering with his spy buddy, and pretty soon the whole team would be fixing him with those disappointed, Stark-you-fucked-up-again looks. Fine. Whatever. He didn’t regret sleeping with Loki, and he wasn’t going to drop whatever he could make from it, either- he didn’t now a damn thing about the god, not really, but he’d seen more than even his brother had been allowed. And Tony wasn’t giving that up.  
  
“Why the silence, friends? I see no cause for gloom, this morning.” Ah, speak of the devil. Thor always tried to sit near Loki, like he thought it would remind him of better days, and today was no exception. He tossed his arm over his brother’s shoulder, not even putting enough pressure to make the guy flinch. Big as he was, Thor was far from the oaf most people took him for. “You are halfway through your test- even father must admit he was wrong, then. Where is the son of Coul? I thought he should like to celebrate as well.”  
  
“Coulson went off this morning, he says we’ll know why soon,” Clint explained in an off-hand sort of way, playing with his knife and not touching a bite of breakfast. “Hey, Thor, you guys want to babysit the iron man? I’m getting sick of this place. No offense intended.”  
  
“Yes there was,” The Asian one (and really, cool as it was, how did that work? He knew he was from another realm, but it was strange to see how many of these alien races exactly reflected the ones on Earth) replied calmly, as freakishly impassive as ever. Clint at least had the guts to look completely unabashed at being called out.  
  
“Okay, just a bit,” Clint admitted, shrugging. Loki hid the hint of an amused smirk, but Tony knew he’d purposefully left it just obvious enough for the archer to notice. “I need a real fight, playing the houseguest is getting boring.”

“You fight every day,” Natasha pointed out, a slight smirk reminding him how often they’d sparred with results that Clint usually found disagreeable.  
  
“He does not mean training. He is an archer, he misses picking foes off- after all, there’s no hiding from the enemy in a sparring match,” Sif retorted. The two girls had a tendency to go for each other’s throats every few seconds, each finding the other a weaker version of themselves who, one way or another, mocked whatever fem-murderess code they stood for. It would have been funny if Tony wasn’t sure they were going to kill each other (and probably the rest of them too) one of these days.  
  
Tony shared a look with Steve, expecting the man to look as concerned as he did, but the soldier was smiling and looking away from the oncoming catfight. Confused, Tony turned in time to see Coulson strolling his way inside- with, of all people, Odin right beside him.  
  
Well, that didn’t forebode anything good. Tony saw Loki tense up on the other side of the table, purposefully looking away from the Allfather as he approached. Even Natasha had dropped her retort to watch and wait, though she didn’t seem to share the same levels of Tony’s anxiety. “They didn’t break some rule, did they?” She wondered dryly, and Loki only smirked quietly to himself.  
  
Tony muttered a curse under his breath, but luckily the comment seemed reasonable enough even out of context, and Thor asked no awkward questions. That was going to be a bitch to explain when Loki got around to allowing public affection. “This hasn’t got anything to do with Loki or Stark.” Coulson assured, not bothering to take a seat when it was offered to him. Odin, of course, remained standing all high-and-mighty above them. “Not directly, anyway. There’s an army advancing on Earth.”  
  
Well, that was blunt. Tony found himself on his feet before he’d fully registered the comment, and he wasn’t the only one- Loki, Hogun, and Bruce were the few still sitting with some measure of calm. The others looked ready to pounce on the nearest thing that even resembled an enemy. “An army? Whose?” Thor demanded, failing to hide the involuntary flicker of his eyes towards Loki. His brother didn’t even glance at him, but Thor turned away quickly, looking furious with himself for his distrust.  
  
“The Storm Giants,” Odin replied, probably just because his voice was so much better-suited for the dramatic revelation thing. Too bad it didn’t mean a damn thing to the Avengers, even if Thor and his pals did look even grimmer than they had a moment ago.  
  
“Where, and how many?” Steve was probably already running through battle scenarios, ready to run off and get his shield with orders for the others to meet him at some rendezvous point in twenty minutes. “Do we know a motive, formation, anything?”  
  
“About twenty of them, two days away on foot, about an hour with the bifrost.” Despite the ridiculously sudden situation, Coulson was perfectly clipped and calm as ever, even looked a little bit excited about the possibility of some action. “Heimdall noticed them about ten minutes ago, and the Allfather informed me on his way here. You all have a job to do.”  
  
“And we shall do it. Midgard cannot fight alone,” Sif declared importantly, hand flying to her sword like she thought a swarm of giants was going to break the doors down at any second. Loki scoffed, and Tony was tempted to mirror him but decided against it.  
  
“That’s exactly the point. Our treaty was on the grounds that none of us interfered with Loki’s punishment, but since he obviously wasn’t left to die,” Loki glared at Coulson as if this was some sort of insult, which he probably believed it was, actually, but the man took no notice, “that treaty has been broken. This is an Earth problem, and it’s up to the Avengers to solve it. Thor, you’re welcome to join us- you’re part of the team, after all.”  
  
Well now, that just seemed stupid. Tony would have said so, really, but for some reason Loki was grinning like he found this hilarious, and shock or annoyance had passed over the eyes of any Asgardian within hearing distance. Odin just looked resigned. “It would not be wise to spurn our help, son of Coul.”

Ah, so this was a warrior thing. Tony glanced at Coulson and found the man impassive, but he could tell he was enjoying himself- it must have been a pretty big breach of etiquette to tell a warrior race that you didn’t want them fighting beside you.  
  
“Unfortunately, you’ve made it clear that we can’t expect your help in combat, Allfather. We’ll travel on the bifrost if you’ll allow it, but otherwise I’d hate to make you break your word. Obviously law and order is a top priority with you.”  
  
There was nothing to hint at it, but Tony had the feeling everyone at that table knew just what Coulson was implying. Loki certainly did, though he narrowed his eyes at the show of disapproval for Odin’s priorities, reluctant to let him speak on his behalf.  
  
“You’re going to get us all killed so you can goad the gods. Awesome,” Bruce sighed, but didn’t protest. Apparently he was up for the Avengers-only fight, too.  
  
And the warriors three clearly were not, but Thor shook his head when the blond one attempted to argue. He wasn’t looking too happy himself, but he knew Coulson as well as the rest of them did- there was always some purpose to what he did. “They have a point, father. Asgard must be ready, the storm giants may well be preparing an attack here as well, no doubt in greater numbers,” He warned, giving Odin a look that Tony hoped would be sufficiently placating.  
  
“Seems fair. You guard your gates, we guard ours. Preemptively,” Tony agreed, swiveling a few unwelcome stares his way. Sheesh, he was on everyone’s blacklist, wasn’t he? At least Loki seemed fine with him, and Coulson hadn’t picked up on anything yet. Or, rather, if he had he wasn’t as obvious about his disapproval as the others were. “You guys got an outlet here? Or you know what, Thor can just zap my suit, that’ll power it nicely-“  
  
“ _You_  will not be fighting,” Odin cut in, and for a moment Tony was about to call him out for his fucked-up pride, but then he remembered and oh. Right. “Loki must remain in Asgard.”  
  
“We need the Iron Man," Steve protested, the only one who seemed to find no satisfaction in telling the gods to stay behind. He was a tactician, grudges just weren’t his thing. “If Tony doesn’t fight, they’ll take us apart. Loki will just have to follow.”  
  
For obvious reasons this didn’t seem to go over well with much of anybody, other than perhaps Loki himself- which wouldn’t do much for convincing the others. “Bind his magic. He can follow without causing trouble,” Tony insisted. He’d never been able to do it, but he had a feeling Odin’s runes could shut off Loki’s power pretty effectively. If Loki consented to the treatment, anyway.

“And would you have me cut out his tongue as well?” Odin wondered sharply. Tony had the bad feeling he would, too, if the situation ever called for it- but what was Loki going to do, talk the storm giants into attacking them more than they already were?  
  
“He’s bound to me, right? Well he can’t exactly offer to help them when he’s stuck on a hundred yard chain.” Loki didn’t look too happy about the reminder, but at least he had the sense not to voice his disapproval just yet. “It’s not like he can sneak off while I’m busy fighting.”  
  
“You want me to sit in the sidelines while you all attempt to fight the giants? Lovely,” Loki muttered, though he was eyeing Coulson like he was very much looking forward to watching a giant bash his head with a club. Yeah, probably better he didn’t join the fun. “I could help, you know.”  
  
“Now  _that_  isn’t happening,” Steve cut in quickly, which unfortunately for Loki seemed to be the unanimous sentiment. Even Tony thought it’d be safer to keep him off the kill zone.  
  
They would probably never get away with it on a normal basis, but this was just another chance for everything to go wrong. And Odin was no doubt eager to prove that his son was incapable of change- demanding he stay behind would be like a starving man passing up free lunch at a five star restaurant. “If Loki accompanies you, so must the warriors three. They are Thor’s companions, accept their help as friends, not warriors of Asgard. That way the treaty will remain broken,” He said at last, and Coulson actually nodded- much to Natasha’s disappointment.  
  
Oh, well, Tony could put up with the crazy Amazoness so long as her anger was being spent killing giants, and not Midgardian superheroes. But all the same he was tempted to refuse the offer when he caught sight of Loki’s startled look, a hint of fear that he’d never have noticed just a few weeks ago. Tony wished there was a way he could reassure him, but right now it would be too obvious if he even tried to squeeze his hand. “That settled? Good. I want all of you at the bridge in twenty minutes. Stark, your suit can run off the reactor. The rest of you, weapons are still in your rooms. Get going,” Coulson ordered briskly, and the team set off with only minimal whining from Clint. The warriors three were a little more reluctant, but Thor called for them to come “prepare for the tide of war” and they went off after him, leaving Tony in the room with Loki and Odin.  
  
Great, this was never the best way to start a day- situations like this could only get worse and worse. “So what’ve you got, all-daddy? More of those magic carvings? Because you can forget about any more slicing-and-dicing,” Tony warned, staying on his feet even though Loki was rolling his eyes at him for it. Well, whatever. It may have been pointless, but he wasn’t going to give Odin the high ground here.  
  
“Of course not. Your binding could be done through no other means, this can. Come,” He replied sharply, brushing past Tony none too gently on his way toward the door.  
  
Guess Kings didn’t have to say “excuse me” to upstart mortal commoners if they didn’t feel like it. “You heard the man, let’s get going.”  
  
“But I haven’t finished my breakfast,” Loki protested lightly, smiling all the same and rising to follow. “You are too bold, you know. He is not usually so brash- though he’s never liked mortals much.”  
  
“I noticed. You know, it’s going to be a bitch to fight if I can’t fly- a hundred yards is  _nothing_. Sure we can’t get you a jetpack or something?”  
  
“If I had my magic I could merely follow you into the air, but you have already prevented that.”  
  
“Totally not my fault, we’d both have to stick around otherwise.”  
  
Loki smirked but said nothing else, and Tony wondered for a second how badly he’d fucked up. Loki’s magic was the one part about him that was, usually, untouchable, the one constant he had when his whole life was being thrown this way and that. Even the god of chaos needed something to rely on every once in a while. Still, they didn’t have time to think of anything else- Tony was worried about Loki, and the potential fallout if this month went the wrong way, but he wasn’t going to let anybody fuck with Earth just because of that.

They followed Odin for just a few more minutes before they were met by a nervous looking servant carrying what appeared to be a set of Captain Hammer-worthy gloves, minus the actual glove part. Chunky as hell wristbands, or more likely-  
  
“Handcuffs. These bind his magic?” Yeah, okay, that was a lot better than runes. To his surprise Odin nodded, and didn’t take them himself but waved for the servant to pass them on to Tony, who could only stare uncomprehending until Loki muttered a curse in some Scandinavian tongue and rolled his eyes.  
  
“Only the one who puts them on may take them off, Stark,” Loki sighed, as though this were the most obvious bit of knowledge he possessed. “Odin will apply the binding magic after you’ve done that.”  
  
An awful lot of trust for the mortal he hated. Tony accepted the handcuffs, weird as they were, but turned a questioning look to Odin before making any move to clap them on Loki’s wrists. “Why me?”  
  
“If Loki’s power becomes necessary someone must be able to free it. You have the most to lose from any rash decisions,” Odin explained calmly- and he made a pretty good point. If Loki bolted, or found some other way to turn his imprisonment around, Tony would be the one fucked over for it. Odin probably thought he’d only remove those if they were two seconds from death.

Like the others would let him do it even then.  
  
Tony felt like he was betraying Loki, even though the god was more or less obediently offering his hands up for binding. You couldn’t stop magic, it just wasn’t right- but the clock was ticking, giants were marching towards Earth, and Tony had his priorities. So with a muttered apology he maneuvered the clunky restraints over the god’s wrist as Odin spoke some magic mumbo-jumbo that sealed them shut and no doubt did a lot more.  
  
They left in a hurry after that, and Loki was as playful as ever about the rush they were in- but he didn’t protest when Tony put an arm around his waist, and eventually fell silent to stare at the floor with eyes lacking their usual light.

\-----

  
“Thor, Bruce, you two and I are going to meet the enemy here. Clint, hide in the tall grass until you have an opening. The rest of you are the b-team, you wait behind that hill until the fighting picks up a bit. Some are bound to be stronger than the others, pick them out while you watch and take them by surprise. It’s about sixty yards away, Tony, so be careful. Loki, you’re waiting here until this is over. Coulson, make sure he does it.”  
  
Loki, highly unimpressed by Steve’s on-the-spot instructions, only rolled his eyes, which wasn’t open protest so they couldn’t hope for much more. Tony figured it was a sign of the Captain’s immense charisma that none of the warriors protested his somewhat sneaky plan, but nobody seemed to have a problem with it. Thor had scouted (Tony’s job, usually, but Loki refused point-blank to be carried and flying wouldn’t work otherwise) and this was the best place for cover for miles, along the only path wide enough to carry a war-party of storm giants. He estimated they had fifteen minutes before things got messy, but at least they’d be out of the way for it. They’d found some hobbit-hole ditch for temporary shelter, and Tony was already getting stir crazy. He didn’t envy Loki, having to wait there while they fought.  
  
“Remember, we do not want a war. If the giants attempt to surrender or flee, do not stop them,” Thor warned, a far cry from the arrogant kid he’d once been, according to mournful stories by the god himself. Loki sneered, obviously not appreciating his brother’s moral high-ground.  
  
“Can do, big guy. So, we doing this or what? Snap to it, we don’t have all day.”  
  
Personal dislike aside, the others seemed to agree with Tony’s sentiment and set off to obey orders- or, in Loki’s case, sat down with obvious annoyance. Tony wanted to say something, but he’d been getting weird looks from the others all day. Not worth the risk just yet.  
  
The hill seemed like an obvious place to hide in Tony’s opinion, so he blasted a good-sized hole in the side for better cover when they approached it. They all fit pretty nicely- even Volstagg, surprisingly enough- and Tony was just about to kick back and relax when Natasha decided to ruin his good mood with awkward questions.

 

“So. Are you going to tell Thor you slept with his brother, or should I?” She demanded. Thor’s pals, who had been quietly discussing tactics, stopped almost simultaneously, with looks of shock that could have been comical in any other situation.

“I vote neither- it’s not his business,” Tony retorted, which he knew was a complete lie. Thor would care, because Tony was his teammate and above all his friend- and Loki, unfortunately, could  _not_  take care of himself. “Or yours, for that matter.”

“You  _bedded_  the liesmith?” Sif wondered in disgust. “And you claim that he cannot manipulate you?”

“Loki didn’t trick me into anything.” Why was he even bothering to defend himself to these guys? They were all, Natasha included, looking almost  _disappointed_  with him, like Loki was some tainted thing he should be shunned for touching. “What? It some crime to sleep with a prince or what?”

“It’s foolishness, Loki is a master at manipulation. He’ll know by now what it takes to gain your… compliance.” The Robin-Hood lookalike warned- Fendell, or something.

Tony could have laughed at that- sex, making him compliant? He’d be in the hands of half the female population of California if that were the case. “Yeah, that’s wrong. Nice try though.”

“I want to know why you did it,” Natasha cut in before any further arguing could commence. “Never mind that he’s absolutely insane, he’s Thor’s  _brother_.”

“Is ‘because he’s hot’ the wrong answer?”

“Stark.”

“Pardon me for sounding like a teenage melodrama- but you really wouldn’t  _get it_. You all think he’s a monster, so no matter what I say you’re going to think he tricked me.” Because nobody would willingly get close to Loki, right? Tony knew he was digging himself a deeper grave, but he really didn’t give a damn. Let them tell Thor, let them shout him down. It would be worth it the next time he kissed Loki, or fell asleep beside him.

“That’s because he  _is,_ ” Sif retorted, unabashed. “You know what he’s done, and you would still accept that Jotun liar into your bed-“

“He is not a monster because he is Jotun,” Volstagg corrected, and Tony was forced to remember that he was the oldest of Thor’s friends. Boastful, and kind of obnoxious, but less of a bigot at least. “He is a monster because of what he has  _done_.”

“And who forced him into doing it, exactly?” Tony wondered sharply, bringing a glare from Sif but annoyance from the others.

Nobody had time for a response, however- the ground practically trembled, and a familiar crack wrought the air so suddenly Tony thought his eardrums might split. They all shared another look, this one confused rather than aggravated- why was Thor fighting already?

Another crack brought with it an almost-human below, too loud to come from anything under eight feet tall, and they had their answer. Looked like their guests were early.

“Stark.” A completely different tone than before, a familiar one.  
  
The helmet snapped over Tony’s eyes as he stepped forward, brushing past the others to exit the cave. “Way ahead of you,” He replied, voice garbled by the suit, and activated his repulsors the moment systems were fully booted up.  
  
It felt like coming home- he’d missed the air, he’d missed the strength, and he’d missed JARVIS’ presence. He even missed the violence, the ring of gunshot as he slammed to the ground in front of some humanoid two times as big as he should be, and he  _definitely_  missed the whir of his repulsor rays. The first blast hit a giant square in the chest, but the thing barely staggered. Whatever the storm giants were, they were a lot sturdier than Loki’s kin, and a lot more human-looking, which only made them all the more disturbing. He didn’t pause for a second, shooting off the ground and barreling into the giant’s chest, knocking it to the ground with a great strain on his boot jets while it was still off-balance.  
  
The thing toppled, and lady Sif jumped in for the kill. Literally, drove her spear right through the giant’s throat, then went after impaling his eye for good measure. Gross. Tony grimaced, but he had no time for sympathy- one of the storm giants almost caught him midair, and he had to jet out of the way to avoid it by inches. A nagging pain at the back of his eye told him he was almost too high up, vanishing when he lowered and got closer to Loki. At least the 100-yard limit came with a bit of a warning. He hovered as high up as he could go and rounded on the giant, hitting him with a prolonged beam from both repulsors at once.  
  
He growled in anger and staggered, but neither fell nor showed any great signs of pain. “Enough of your toys, human,” He snarled (in a voice that was way too intelligent, come on- what had ever happened to “fe fie fo fum”?) and crouched as if to jump. Tony had seen the Hulk leap enough times to know a hundred yards wouldn’t cut it with something that big and prepared to jet out of the way- seconds before Hulk himself came to the rescue.  
  
The two of them toppled, the Hulk with an angry roar about not breaking the flying tin man (which Tony resented greatly, but they could discuss that later) and the giant with a baffled grunt. Tony was confident enough that there would be bits of storm giant tossed around in minutes that he turned in search of his own fight rather than support- just in time to take the hit from a fist as big as he was.  
  
He was used to being battered around in the suit, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like hell when he was propelled right into the rock serving as Loki’s “cover”, readings flashing in protest.  _“Sir, there appears to be damage to the wiring in your left glove. It is almost completely unresponsive.”_  
  
“Just what I needed,” Tony muttered, deciding to keep the thing on even after testing JARVIS’ prognosis and failing to hit the storm giant charging him with so much as a gust of air. Fine, right hand it was then. He braced himself against the rock and shot off it, launching himself straight into his enemy’s stomach and sending as much power as he could to the boots so that they were locked like that. Big though he was, this new giant wasn’t as bad as the one Hulk was against and the continued pressure was shoving him back, though it was taking up energy that JARVIS dutifully reminded Tony he could not spare right now.  
  
“I need a little more, JARVIS!” Tony shouted impatiently, because the giant had snarled and begun to fight back by doing more than scraping his feet into the ground. His hands were not at all clumsy despite being so huge, and Tony couldn’t avoid him and keep this up at the same time. The suit was protesting his abuse, but JARVIS responded with only minimal sarcasm and Tony swung his leg to the right, the burst from his boot jets searing the skin of the giant’s palm.

He cursed in a language Tony didn’t understand, but rather than try again did the one thing Tony wouldn’t have expected from somebody who looked so big and stupid. He fell back, quickly enough that Tony couldn’t recover and kept going forward, failing to stabilize himself with just one hand-jet. _Hundred yards, hundred yards, hundred yards!_ One-track mind aside, Tony managed to angle his boots upward, propelling himself down and crashing with a very ungraceful grunt of pain. Normally he’d have gone forward and slowly got himself upright again, but he was about eighty yards off and in a second he’d’ve been off the battle for good.  
  
The rest of them weren’t fairing much better. Thor was actually wrestling one of the giants-and looked to be winning, go figure, but he couldn’t deal with them all- and Steve was doing his best not to be crushed in the grip of a gigantic hand. The warriors three (plus Madam “Better than you” over there) were efficient enough, but one of them, Tony forgot their name, seemed to have a broken arm. Coulson and Hawkeye were shooting them in the eyes, which just seemed to piss them off but made it easier for Natasha to go up against them, but she was weaponless by now and limping in a bad way. Hulk was doing pretty good, picking up and throwing the giant he’d tackled with an ear-shattering bellow, but the fact that he hadn’t managed to win just yet spoke very highly of their strength.  
  
And, to top it all off, some of them could do  _magic_.

The ground bubbled underneath Tony’s feet, catching one of his jets before he could fully fly clear and threatening to tug him down. He let off a string of sailor-worthy curse words, putting his remaining power back to his jets and failing to do more than slow his descent. “JARVIS, release it.” He ordered, mourning the loss of his boot as his AI complied, booster detaching with a click and whirr, leaving Tony to fly free before his foot could end up caught.  
  
Down one arm, and one leg. If they had magic even Hulk might not be able to take down all of them- Loki had won that way once or twice, distracted him with some illusion that led him on a goose chase across  _states_ \- and neither would Thor. The sheer numbers were too much, really only two dozen or less but that was as good as an  _army_  with these guys.  
  
Clint’s arrow drove through the wrist of the giant who’d been seconds from crushing Steve, making the big guy roar in anger and release their soldier pal. The drop was only about thirteen feet, give or take, but when Steve hit the floor he didn’t move- either stunned or knocked out by the giant's grip. Clint had moved on to protecting ‘Tasha, so it was up to Tony to repulsor-blast the giant in the nose, distracting him from the prone human within his reach. He growled and turned toward Tony, laughing at the sight of his struggle to stay in the air, and bounded toward him. And this one had a sword tucked away- they all had some degree of weapon, actually, and they hadn’t even used them yet.  
  
This was the kind of person Thor fought against at home? No wonder he found mortal enemies so amusing, Titanium Man felt like a Teletubby in comparison to these guys. Tony swerved, avoiding any near-death experiences, and shot away as quickly as he could, headed straight for the rocks.  
  
They needed a trump card, dammit, and Odin’s pride could go suck it.  
  
Loki looked startled when Tony landed in front of him, but recovered with a knowing smirk just seconds later. “Oh  _do_  tell me my dear brother has gotten himself hurt.”  
  
“You know, you really need to go to group family counseling about those problems,” Tony muttered, Loki’s grin saying he knew well what a disaster  _that_  would end up. An explosion from behind the rock shook the ground, and chips of stone were blow aside, nearly catching Tony in the head. Whatever had caused that couldn’t be good. “Can you help? Cancel their magic?”  
  
“More than that,” Loki assured with far too much confidence. He was looking Tony right in the eye, despite the helmet, and there was a big part of him that wanted to run- Loki could kill them all, join the giants and drag Tony with him off to world conquest, keep him as some ever-nearby pet until he worked around the spell.

But this was his chance to show trust in the god that he’d never had, and god damn if Tony wasn’t going to take it. “Then work your mojo, all-powerful-supervillain.”  
  
Loki held out the handcuffs, looking almost eager in a way that couldn’t be good, but Tony ignored his concern and thought of the night before- the god’s smile when he thought he wasn’t being watched. He wasn’t evil, he was hurt to the point of being a bit sick in the head, and Tony knew that feeling well.  _Time to be needed, Liesmith._  He reached for the hatch, held Loki’s gaze for one more second, and snapped it back. The cuffs turned every which way, unlocking mechanism after mechanism, and fell to the ground, nothing but useless chunks of metal.

Loki’s smile was two parts grateful, and one part childish excitement- Tony tried very hard to ignore the possibility of the rest of it, of that old blood thirst he knew was still there but had  _really_  hoped could stay hidden for a while. “Thank you, Tony,” He said with what sounded like genuine gratitude, and vanished.  
  
Tony almost had a heart attack- but when he  _didn’t_  die in horrible agony realized that Loki had just made his way to the battlefield, Thor’s confused but happy bellow of “Brother!” confirming this. Someone (probably Clint) swore loudly about idiotic Tin Men, but the battle was too loud to catch any details. Tony didn’t care, really, let them be angry at him- he knew as soon as he flew back to the fighting that he’d made the right choice.  
  
Loki really was wasted as a villain, or at least was so long as Thor was on the other side. The others were still a little baffled by this new addition to the battlefield, but the Thunderer had molded right back into fighting with his brother beside him- and the two of them  _worked_. Thor’s strength, Loki’s magic- ill-suited for fighting each other, sure, but fire and ice and energy that looked to be somewhere in between followed each jolt of thunder, chains from the ground grabbed unbalanced foes ‘round the neck and pulled them flat to the floor where Mjolnir could be ready and waiting. Two storm giants hit the deck before they knew what had happened at all.  
  
But when they did know, the war was back on. They had magic of their own, and Loki’s concentration had to spin toward negating spells before they could form, which at the very least left the others open to attack but ended the duo-act of death. Tony disregarded this little unpleasantry and turned his mind back to fighting, or attempting to anyway. “Talk to me JARVIS, what’s the damage?”  
  
_”Sir. One flight stabilizer is irreparable at this time, and your missing booster cannot be compensated for without it. I’m afraid organized flight would be impossible.”_  
  
“You know what, miracle as it may be, I had actually noticed that. What  _else_  is wrong?”  
  
_“Aside from Loki’s entering the battlefield? All systems are otherwise operating normally, though use of the unibeam would be highly unadvised at this time.”_  
  
All right, he was grounded but not out for the count. Tony could deal with that, so long as he didn’t run out of ammunition any time soon (the repulses were nice, sure, but they didn’t seem too effective against these guys). He tested a bullet, drawing a giant’s attention away from their still-dazed Captain, and whistled as best he could through the suit. “Hey, forget about me? Boy, you’d think a head that size would hold a brain that could actually, you know, think, but whatever. Come on, it’s not too hard- right foot, left foot, and don’t forget to breathe.”  
  
The giant rolled its huge eyes, as if Tony were some squawking bug that he didn’t want to deal with, and turned away in time to receive a missile to the back. The explosion from which didn’t dissipate, or catch, but wrapped around the giant’s neck like a tornado-necklace hybrid. The giant  _screamed_ , and Tony turned to Loki with a mixed sort of awe and apprehension, but the Trickster had moved his magic toward aiming the Hulk (in other words, having an illusion of himself appear in front of the best targets, which always made the Big Guy roar in frustration and hatred then barrel straight into said target and angrily beat it to a pulp to vent his anger that the fake Loki had vanished) and didn’t catch his gaze. Tony was just glad Coulson had been too busy doing damage control in Asgard to join them here- he would not have been very happy with Tony for giving Loki free reign.  
  
But it worked, didn’t it? The fire necklace was more than distracting enough for Tony to shoot off the ground (his poor propulsion system could only boost him about twenty feet, how sad) and pound the giant’s temple with one power-charged metal fist. He must have hit a sore spot, because the Grawp look-alike swooned, growled, and hit the ground with an Earth-shaking thump, so muffled by the dirt that it just sounded kind of pathetic. Tony staggered, unbalanced for a moment. He didn’t even want to  _imagine_  how heavy those guys were.

Loki was like the missing piece in a very complicated machine. His magic and speed blended perfectly with the rest of them- most specifically Thor and Sif, the latter whom didn’t look at all happy about it and kept shooting Tony glares that made him wonder if she was debating how quickly her spear could impale the suit. And the warriors three seemed grateful enough (except Hogun, who was probably devoid of the ability to display emotion) for the new team member that they even offered their gratitude whenever Loki’s magic saved or aided one of them.  
  
And Loki looked so damn  _happy_.  
  
That was probably more because he was aiding in the slaughter of Storm Giants (who, according to him, were close cousins of the Jotuns) than because he was being welcomed by his former friends and properly appreciated in battle, but it was still nice to see him smile in between all the chaos. Well, nice and a little bit terrifying, really, but Tony had already found that everything was terrifying when Loki was involved.  
  
The storm giants were not pleased with the change of tide. Loki’s magic healed Steve’s (minor) concussion within seconds, and the Captain was not happy about being knocked down. They were now facing a large group of angry and magically-aided warriors who were heavily motivated by frustration and the strength of the defender, and their numbers were dwindling slowly but surely.

There was one choice left, really, and with one or two captives already secure Tony personally was happy to let them take it.  
  
“Run,” He advised, every last gun and working repulsor firing up and aiming at the group, who had been more or less herded into a cluster at the center of a human (/Asgardian/Jotun) circle.  
  
And they did, thank god. Tony was sure that, even if they won in the end, immense pain and/or crippling would follow a lengthened fight, and nobody but the Hulk seemed to argue that. Bruce’s big green problem, however, was very against this strategy and ran charging after the storm giants before they’d gone more than ten steps. It was motivation for them to keep going, at least, so nobody seemed inclined to stop him (though Thor did fly after, because Bruce would not be happy to wake up alone in some Asgardian field).  
  
There was a long moment of silence, everybody showing their relief to some minor degree and most turning their attention to the two or three unconscious storm giants they had to (somehow) get back to Odin for interrogation. Most, because Tony and Loki were far too busy watching each other to be bothered, and the former had the feeling that neither of them had smiled this widely or honestly in a long, long time.  
  
“So. Not going to light me on fire now, are you?” Tony wondered, because you could never be too careful really.  
  
“Not in a literal sense, and not until we’re rid of present company,” Loki purred in response, eyes bright and hungry, which probably wasn’t smart because  _everyone_  could hear them if they bothered to listen.  
  
“My turn tonight? Fair trade and all, I’m definitely okay with that.”  
  
“Shut up, Tony,” Steve suggested idly, not even bothering to actually turn to him. There was a lecture waiting to happen there, but they had bigger problems than Tony’s sex life at the moment.  
  
Loki smirked quietly, sharing a playful wink with Tony that could have meant  _anything_  and made his way over to the unconscious storm giants. His hands glowed green with magic, and Sif stepped forward with her spear ready and a warning on her lips, but the Trickster ignored her and Steve shook his head, calling her down. She scoffed, but ceased and desisted long enough for Loki to mutter and chant out the intricacies of a spell, brow furrowed slightly in concentration. The giants glowed with the same light, and seemed to sink into the ground, slowly being transported to whatever dungeon Asgard had that could hold creatures like them. Tony hurried forward, anticipating exhaustion and unsurprised to find it when the trickster slumped briefly against him, a little dizzy with exertion. He straightened up quickly though, shying away from the concern with a look of mingled suspicion and warning.

“The Allfather will find them,” He assured before anybody could question the effectiveness of his plan. “They’ll be bound when they arrive, I don’t doubt. Odin has plenty of practice restraining prisoners, so there’s no need to concern yourselves with them.”  
  
“Like hell there’s not. I want to know why they were headed for Earth in the first place.” Clint had somehow found somewhere to perch even on the grassy flat, and now hopped down from it with a glare that seemed frightening to some people, but Tony knew by now as “Clint’s business face”.  
  
“You are still a new realm. They were scouting you out for conquest, no doubt, and would have it, if there were not now messengers returning to warn that Asgard is prepared to aid you. They will not war with the gods.”  
  
“Yeah, because that worked so well when you tried it,” Clint snapped, and Loki only grinned in response. None of them had ever felt fully convinced that on any of the occasions he’d attempted it, Loki had really done all he could to conquer the Earth. Thor assured them that they probably didn’t interest him enough to risk true effort.  
  
“So, what, we can expect more of this?” There was blood trickling through Steve’s pretty blond hair, but he seemed not to notice. Natasha was watching him with pursed lips, like she couldn’t decide whether or not to point this out.  
  
“Unlikely. News travels quickly, and this isn’t Asgard’s first interference. Interested parties will be far more wary from now on.” Which was far from good news, seeing as Loki managed to sneak around unnoticed with practiced ease. If some other species decided to go incognito they wouldn’t have the chance to wipe out any search parties. Tony probably wouldn’t even have time to get his suit on.  
  
They didn’t have much time to mope, however. Within the minute Thor had returned, carrying with him a crack of thunder and a mostly-naked expert in gamma radiation. Bruce wobbled a bit once he was back on his feet, but Thor just beamed at them as if each of their sprained bones and bloody injuries was a cookie with his name on it. “My friends! I am glad you are all well. Where have the giants-?”  
  
“Loki,” Hogun replied simply, standing up and brushing past them now that the whole team was back, not ready to waste even a moment.  
  
"Ah." This seemed a full enough explanation for Thor, who nodded good-naturedly and grinned at his brother. Loki didn't return the gesture. Thor frowned, but looked resigned to being estranged outside of forced politeness at highly infrequent intervals. "Anthony, may I speak with you as I walk? I have concerns I wish to discuss together."  
  
Tony gulped, looking to Natasha and silently begging that please, please,  _please_  she hadn't said anything. The woman didn't even blink, leaving him up to interpret the immediate future however he liked. "Ah, well, sure. Why not?"  
  
"Excellent!" Thor beamed, which seemed promising, but Loki was looking more nervous than ever, which was  _far_  from reassuring, seeing as he knew his brother a lot better than Tony did.  
  
Oh, well, what was the worst that could happen?

Whatever Thor had to say, privacy seemed to be key. He dragged Tony far ahead of the others, enough that the rune was providing a soft pounding in the back of his head, before he said so much as a word. Tony told himself that was a good sign, really, and took his panic in stride for the time being.  
  
Normally he would rattle his mouth off, but he waited now for Thor to make the first move- mostly because he was  _terrified_  that he maybe knew what this conversation was about. “You look rather scared, Anthony. Is something wrong?”  
  
“I’m hoping not.”  
  
“Fair enough,” Thor grinned, and Tony tried to respond. He  _knew_  he was intimidating, and he knew that Tony was running through the worst possible scenarios in his mind, but he was still letting him squirm. Thor liked to have fun as much as his brother did. “I only wish to thank you. Not many would have trusted my brother as you just did.”  
  
“Don’t thank me yet, Captain Hammer, for all we know he’s about to kill us all.” But they both knew he wouldn’t, not right now at least.  
  
“He trusts you,” Thor said simply, and Tony looked up at him at last, startled eyes veiled by the helmet. He hastened to remove the thing, seeing as the power was half-dead already, and waited. “As far as he can trust, that is. I fear my brother will never return to the man he once was, and he knows that even if he does not mourn it. Yet you, who were only ever his enemy, defended him and now protect and believe in him. For all I love him, for all the compassion I show him, Loki will believe none of it. He believes I act out of the affection of memory alone, but you have no such memory to be acting off of.”  
  
Tony glanced back over his shoulder- Loki was sulking at the very back of the group, but every now and then someone would call over his or her shoulder and he would respond absently, looking like he almost wanted to smile. Definitely better than he’d been at the start of the month, where every genuine word was a veiled threat. “He’s killed a lot of people, you know. Thousands. But the whole of my life time doesn’t even add up to the amount of time he was chained to that rock, so I really can’t judge. But I would rather give him a chance then make things worse by throwing him to the wolves every time he does something wrong.”  
  
Thor said nothing, but Tony was  _sure_  this couldn’t be it, both because he was paranoid and because this could all be said in front of the team. “You cannot forget what he has done, though, or what he can still do. I am glad to see someone displaying trust in Loki, but know that should you continue to lay with my brother you had best keep any harm from coming to either of you because of it, or I will feed you to a bilgeshnipe,” Thor’s voice dropped from pleasant to blunt and threatening in the space of about two words, and his hand on Tony’s shoulder suddenly become a lot less friendly.  
  
A mix of  _how the fuck did you find out_  and  _what in fuck’s name is a bilgeshnipe_  came out when he tried to speak, merging into gibberish that Thor only frowned at. Right, try again. “You um- you picked up on that, did you?”  
  
“There were more clues than you hope, Anthony. Both of you appear to have a biting habit, for example,” Tony’s hand flew to his neck to hide it, forgetting the suit was on and ow, did that hurt or what? “And I have spent my whole life living in the chambers nearest Loki’s, though I doubt I am the only one to have heard you.”  
  
“To be fair, he was being louder than I was,” Tony defended with a bit of a whine, and Thor only raised a  _very_  disapproving eyebrow. “You’re not going to break my neck or anything, are you? I’m very fond of my spine, I prefer it to be intact.”

“I have no right to dictate whom either of you spends your nights with. But if you harm him, or if he harms you, I will interfere. I care for you both, and I can see little good to come of this.”  
  
Not an immediate order to stop, at least. Tony’s head was beginning to ache- first Natasha, then those warriors, now Thor. What was he going to do when  _Fury_  heard about this? “I try not to think about the future that much.”  
  
“Only because you are lucky enough not to know of it,” Thor replied almost wistfully. “Reckless action is not wise where Loki is concerned, Anthony.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve noticed. Thinking doesn’t do much good either, if you haven’t noticed.” Ugh, wow, that  _really_  hurt. Tony paused, frowning, and didn’t realize he’d grabbed Thor’s arm to keep himself upright until the god caught his shoulder, asking if he was okay. “Uh, yeah, probably just took a blow back there. You were saying? Reckless action?”  
  
“Where is my brother?” Thor demanded suddenly, turning away from Tony-who was finding it very hard to care right now and hit the ground as soon as the god let go, head pounding like it had  _split_ \- and shouting a warning, calling the others' attention to something going on behind them.  
  
There were footsteps pounding, away from and toward him, and hands gripping him by the shoulders. To help him, somehow, but god, Tony was starting to  _hurt_  and he was convinced that they were trying to take the armor away so they could get at his skin and make it worse-  
  
He was screaming, but the noise seemed too disconnected to belong to his body, and roared in his ears, pounded in his head- he had to make that stop, now. He clamped his mouth shut, or tried to, but that didn’t work. He bit down on his tongue, anything to make it quiet, but someone grabbed his jaw to stop him, and it was like their hand was on fire- he was sure his skin, his jaw, was burning off, melting, and oh god it all  _hurt_. There was a hand on his upper arm, they were trying to tear it off, they must have been- he imagined muscle, bone, snapping and searing as he tried to pull away.  
  
_Pathetic,_  A voice in the back of his mind sneered- and… no, that sounded like Pepper but it couldn’t possible have been Pepper, she was back in Miami and her voice  _never_  sounded like that.  _Can’t you even deal with a little pain? Really, you had one job, and you let him get away. I thought you_  liked  _being close to him. Just look at your neck- getting over me so quickly?_  
  
“No, no, shut up- not real, not real,” Tony groaned, reached up to grab and tug at his hair and drag his fingernails over his ears, feeling blood pour down the side of his head, but his mind wasn’t  _shutting up_.  
  
Again somebody grabbed at his hands and pulled them away. He could hear Steve’s voice, but whatever it was saying bled into a resounding pain in his head, the rune supplying its own meanings.  _Stop complaining, Stark. You pretend you’re a member of the team, but the moment something goes wrong you fall apart? Get over yourself. We should just leave you here- we still have the suit, what should we keep you for?_  
  
Tony muttered protests, but his tongue was heavy and his throat unresponsive- it felt swollen, like his own body was choking him, and breathing become an ever more taxing toll. He wanted to just stop, but his lungs felt like they would choke him or explode if he tried, so he gasped for air that stung as badly as if he were inhaling pure pepper-spray. He clawed at his throat, hoping to pry it out before he choked on the stuff, but again somebody fought to pull his hands away, and no matter how he struggled they were stronger, and hefting him up, taking him somewhere-  
  
Screaming, screaming- his body was breaking, but his mind wouldn’t do him the courtesy of blacking out.

\------

“Man of Iron, be calm. Can you understand me?”  
  
Tony shuddered-his whole body felt like a raw nerve, like he would rip open if anybody tried to help him any longer- and nodded. He blinked, knowing his eyes were open and had been for a while even though they refused to see more than blurred colors, nodded again, hoping to work some feeling back into his body. Feeling other than pain, anyway- he’d felt endless pain, for hours it seemed like, and hadn’t heard a single comforting voice until this moment. Even familiar sounds morphed into threats or mockery, but now this felt genuine, sounded genuine. There were still aftershocks of pain though, and he flinched away from a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Anthony Stark.” He turned to the side, forcing his vision to focus- who was? Oh. Frigga. What was she doing out in the middle of storm-giant land? “Can you hear me?”  
  
“Ah-yeah,” Tony muttered, throat so raw that he thought it might be bleeding as he spoke.  
  
Another hand pressed on his arm, not Frigga’s, and he groaned in pain, trying to pull away. But no, it was just Steve- why’d he look so scared? “Jesus Christ, I thought- you sounded like you were dying, Tony.”  
  
Felt like it, too. “Loki- where’s he? What happened?” Wow, thank god for all the super hearing in the room or nobody would understand a word he was struggling to say.  
  
“Look, we’re looking for him, that’s all that matters-“  
  
“He ran?” No, Loki wouldn’t leave him like that, they were insane. He had to be hurting like this, too- Tony sat up, ignoring the burn all through his body. He had to go and help Loki, he must have been in so much pain right now. “I gotta help him, please.”

Two hands pushed him down- Steve, Tasha. Right, the others were here, too. How hadn’t he noticed that? “You can’t go anywhere right now, Tony. Odin couldn’t remove the spell completely without Loki here. He’s sending out a search party soon, so just-“  
  
“No. Why haven’t you gone looking yet?” Search party still couldn’t say much of anything. They could be looking for Loki to punish him, or looking for him because he’d been… lost. Somehow? “Why- no- where’d he go?”  
  
“The cuffs. We left the cuffs on the ground, and those giants… weren’t exactly alone. They were working with somebody- smaller,” Natasha explained slowly, the tone of her voice far from reassuring despite her obvious attempt. “Vanir, I believe?”  
  
Frigga nodded, her eyes drawn in apparent confusion, and opened her mouth but either couldn’t think of what to say or failed to say it. She looked terrified and Tony couldn’t blame her- he was feeling pretty scared himself now. “So, what? They grabbed Loki? Why didn’t any of you  _stop_  them?”  
  
“Magic. Before we could do anything they teleported out of there- I guess Loki was too tired to fight them off before they got the binds back on. They’re pretty damn fast, Tony,” Clint this time, the only one hanging in the back of the room- and the look he was giving Tony was positively  _livid_. He’d never seen the archer glare so strongly before.  
  
He tried to return the look, but a sharp pain tore through his forehead and did away with that notion. He groaned, vision flashing black for a long few moments, and shook his head in a vain attempt to get rid of the pain. There were hands back on his shoulders, and he realized that he’d tried to sit up again. “I've  _got_  to go after him. He needs- I can help find him.”  
  
“No, you really don’t. You wasted enough time on Loki already, the Vanir probably just want to use him as a bargaining chip or something. Get over your fucking obsession with the guy and sit here so you can actually get better instead of causing even more trouble for everyone,” Clint snapped, shoving up off the wall to stand up straight. “Or what, need lover-boy back? Because he’s so much more important than your team, yeah?”

Oh. Someone had told him, then- who, and why the hell had that seemed like a good idea? Tony was going to kick one of them, or something.  _After_  he rescued Loki. “Right now, yeah, he is. You don’t- you have no idea what this damn magic feels like,” He countered, struggling to sit up once more and only slumping against Steve when the soldier hurried to catch him. Fuck, he was a mess- every movement felt like dragging his body through a bed of needles. “I need to get to him.”  
  
“No. What you need to do is sleep- Eir, Frigga, and even Odin have been trying to fix you up for the last eighteen hours, the least you can do is actually rest,” Natasha lectured, standing up to leave Tony in Steve’s hands while she went to whisper something to Clint, who only scoffed and turned to angrily stomp his way out of the room.  
  
She sighed and followed, leaving the room down to just Tony, Frigga, and Steve. Bruce, no doubt, wasn’t up for the stress of seeing his teammate and friend in some pathetic fit of pain, and Thor was off building a search party. “Come on, Cap,” Tony pleaded, by Steve just shook his head.  
  
“No, Tony, you can barely sit up- how do you plan to find him if you can’t move? We’ll get him, I promise.”

 

\-----

  
There was one advantage to being confined to a medieval healing bed- people left you well and alone when you wanted to be left alone. Tony felt like he’d slept to last a lifetime, but it was child’s play to act out exhaustion until even Steve could be convinced to leave because  _really, soldier boy, gonna watch me sleep?_  Once he was alone he was on his feet, and even though he was pretty sure the world had decided to turn upside down he hung on to the headboard of the bed to keep himself upright, because eighteen hours was way too long. Loki had been waiting for over half a day, any more delay was just… no, Tony still felt sick with the aftershocks of that curse, rune,  _whatever_ it was supposed to be, and he’d had the effects dimmed down.

They were still there, and he was still an utter mess, but Loki was dealing with it full-tilt, and Tony couldn’t stand knowing that.

Crossing the medical bay without waking Eir would have been a pain and a half, so he was glad he’d been put in a more private room, and the healer busy elsewhere. His hands followed the walls for support, and the cabinets were an annoying gap but he kept to those just as easily, wincing and dragging his feet after him, cursing the slowness of this pace. He didn’t really know where he planned to go, or how he was supposed to look for Loki like this, but he figured if he could just get to Sleipnir… the horse was unstoppable where his mom was concerned, he’d find a way to planet-hop on that thing. Find the Vanir.

The Vanir, who Frigga had told him were friends, perfectly peaceful, the  _good guys_. Okay, big deal, except that meant they thought Loki was the villain here, and they must have captured him for… some self-righteous, misguided bullshit reason that meant they thought they were in the right. And this whole mess was proof of how awful people could be when they convinced themselves it was for some greater, justified good.

His hand slipped on something from the cabinet and he staggered, caught himself and managing to fall to just one knee before swearing quietly, which did no good and only drained what little breath he had. God, dammit, he hated being out of the suit at times like this. Tony grit his teeth and sucked in a deep breath, trying to summon a surge of strength to pull himself to his feet, knees shaking underneath him. The effort suddenly became a lot easier, which baffled him in the half-second before he was lifted to his feet entirely by a grip he hadn’t noticed had latched itself to his shoulder.

He was too tired to whip around in surprise, but the groggy turn of his head was enough. “Thor-? I thought- Shouldn’t you be looking for your brother?” He doubted he was about to get a lecture on being out of bed, but if he sent Thor off before things got too suspicious he’d be fine, no harm done. If any of the others had seen him walking he’d be in the bed again already.

 

Thor’s frown was difficult to see in this lighting, but his voice carried the same feeling just as well. “The search was useless. Loki is hidden from Heimdall, and we have no way of tracking him, not when he was brought away by magic. That is why I need your help.”

_His_  help? Tony took a long moment to understand this, during which he only managed to stay on his feet because of Thor’s grip. “Me? You want me to help?” Talk about your Christmas miracles- Thor wasn’t trying to force him to rest, he wasn’t insisting that Tony had other problems. “Name it.”

“I would not ask, but… Father is worried, but few care enough about Loki’s welfare to dedicate their time toward looking for him, and he cannot leave the throne. Alone I can do little, you, however, are connected to my brother. As you come nearer to him, the rune’s effects should lessen.” There was something guilty to Thor’s voice, no doubt reluctance to drag Tony along with him. Well, nothing for it- Tony himself thought it a blessing, not a bother, and felt himself almost ready to smile. Almost. “And that besides, Sleipnir only bit me when I attempted to tack him.”

He held up his hand, wrapped in a thick white bandage, and Tony actually did smile, though it was more fond than anything. “Bet Loki’s been turning him against you. He’ll listen to me, I think, but Heimdall will be watching.”

“We are doing nothing illegal, Anthony. Father would disapprove, but Heimdall will not alert him to such a simple matter.” Thor’s confidence wasn’t always founded in fact, but Tony was having a hard time thinking for himself and it seemed like a good enough idea.

“You better have that hammer with you when we find him, because I’m not going to be worth anything in a fight.”

That seemed like enough confirmation for Thor. He beamed, though too weary to hold his usual mirth, and pulled Tony’s arm over his shoulder for better support, quietly assuring him that they would find Loki, soon. Tony, who had experienced a wave of claustrophobia at the necessary movement, only nodded and tried not to shrink away from Thor’s help. Or pass out. He swallowed, the motion burning his throat, and set off at a dragging pace when Thor began to walk. For Loki. He could do this, for Loki.

Because he was going to see that smile again, even if it damn-near killed him.  
-  
If it hadn’t been about three in the morning, and if he hadn’t been shaking just from the effort of walking to the stables, Tony probably would have found endless humor in how obviously Sleipnir despised his uncle. As soon as they approached the horse had reared on all four hind legs and whinnied in anger, stomping his feet and kicking the back of the stall, prancing around and biting at the air, eyes fixed on Thor as he let out angry huffs of breath through his nose. Not a happy horse.

Tony, thank god, was on Sleipnir’s minimal list of acceptable non-equine beings, and managed to calm him down. He even explained, too exhausted to care that he was conversing with a horse, and five minutes later they were off.

In days to come, he would wish for a grand adventure to describe. Sprawling landscapes, horrid obstacles, share meaningful life-changing bullshit with Thor, etc. In reality, however? He was passed out within half an hour, slumped against the back of Thor’s shoulder and only kept upright by Sleipnir’s badass running skills. Not a good plan, really, but the Thunderer assured him that he would be able to tell by Tony’s actions in sleep when the rune said they were getting closer or further, and since he could barely keep from falling apart from the constant nag of pain, Tony allowed himself an extremely uncomfortable, only vaguely relaxing, two hours sleep.

He knew what most people would compare this to. The others all had at least one story- a late night trip, a spontaneous flight or early bus, the parents shaking you out of bed and packing you up, bringing you off for a bit of excitement. The closest Tony had ever come to that was during one of those business trips in which Howard couldn’t shake him off, when they had been pulled out of their hotel room at five in the morning, Tony small enough to fit unwillingly into Maria’s arms, because of some bomb threat nearby. Probably made because of them, actually. Not the most normal analogy, but Tony felt it was more accurate, at least.

They were realm-hopping on a magic horse so they could beat up some giants, and possibly a few benevolent humanish things, in order to save the god of mischief. It should have been epic. Instead, Tony got dreams of endless business meetings, in which all the firm members continued to accuse him of stealing something of theirs, and had thick, bleeding lines of thread instead of lips.

 

“Anthony.” Thor’s voice was impossible not to recognize, even at the moment, and the word was emphasized with an indignant kick from Sleipnir so that Tony had no choice but to groggily blink awake, mouth tasting like rotten toothpaste, which wasn’t much of a culinary improvement from blood in his opinion, though probably safer. “I will not risk bringing Sleipnir any further, we must walk. Grab his mane and I will help you dismount.”

Tony was pretty sure he was about to live every five-year-old girls dream, being helped off a horse by a dashing blond prince, but seeing as he far preferred the magic-wielding evil brother the majesty wasn’t exactly all there. He managed to keep the snark to an exhausted minimum as he was aided to the ground, even if Thor probably was too stressed out to understand the joking. Tony was feeling… better. A lot better. He could keep upright without Thor’s help, and his aching legs didn’t collapse after the first few steps. Meaning they must have been a lot closer now than before, even if Tony still had no idea where the hell they were or exactly how they’d gotten there.

It was a pretty boring place. No towering castles, no demonic caves, no bones of British boys or giant bean stalks lying around. Not at all what Tony would have thought as for a home of giants- but, then again, they might not have brought Loki to their home, and Thor quickly confirmed that. They were, apparently, still technically on Asgard, which at least explained how Sleipnir had been able to bring them there so easily. “Asgard is more than a city of gold, though many of your kind forget it. We are near the way into Svartleheim, and yet there is little to be found in the Dark World. I would not have thought… Regardless, Loki is near. And I intend to find him.”

  
Right, Loki. They weren't here for sightseeing- hearing the god's name was like the lifting of an incantation. Tony stepped forward quickly and without much thought, staring off in the general direction that with any luck would lead to Loki. Forests, rocks, (not so) evil alien things- what the fuck ever. He had kicked terrorist ass with a suit built in a cave in the middle of the desert, he could handle this. It kind of helped that Thor grabbed him by the arm almost immediately, but he liked to think his own determination had at least something to do with it. "There's nothing out here. Where're they hiding him?" Maybe they were flying. A castle in the sky. Wasn't there a kids’ book about that? Tony was pretty sure there was. He was also sure the pain was beginning to affect his ability for rational thought, which wasn't going to do him any good if he had to help Thor fight.

Help Thor, right. Tony always had the feeling that their big friend never really needed any of them around, except maybe to prevent him from fucking up on the basics of mortal culture. "I cannot yet tell. But you have improved, we must be closer. I do not think you will have to wait long." Thor sounded apologetic- like what, this was all supposed to be some chore for Tony? Somehow he resented that. Didn't anybody realize that he actually  _cared_  about Loki, or was all the shit he'd already gone through for the guy not an obvious enough clue? Tony Stark did not do anything just because he felt obliged to do it, a philosophy which definitely included saving the lives of deranged supervillains.

He wasn't here because he had to be, or even because it would relieve his own pain. He was here because... well, because Loki deserved for him to be. He'd lost his children to these people, he'd bled for and because of them for thousands of years and Tony... he just couldn't see the end of it. It was too late for Loki to recover whatever he had lost to the Asgardians, and it was too late for them to trust the man they had beaten down to madness. Thor might have seen alternatives, but the rest of these assholes were stuck in their ways, far too old to consider anything beyond their current reality, no matter the scale of the frequently repeating consequences.

"Why'd you do it?" Thor had not been listening- he turned towards Tony as if surprised to hear him speak, and the man impatiently repeated the question.

"I am afraid I do not understand," Thor apologized, a frown of genuine confusion painting the words, and Tony was starting to grow too frustrated to put up with that.

"Yes you do. Why did you decide to play the hero now? You tied his mouth shut for fuck's sake- you guys  _killed_  his son. Why the hell did you start caring now?" God, his head hurt. Tony didn’t even know why he was saying all of this- it wasn’t like he enjoyed the wounded look Thor suddenly took on, or even thought he really deserved to deal with it. He was acting now, that was what mattered- he knew plenty about bad first tries.

He half expected to be shoved on the ground and left there, but Thor’s step didn’t even falter, though he frowned and remained silent a long while, leading Tony over the seemingly barren land without a word. He was beginning to wonder what sort of asshole he had to be to actually admonish  _Thor_  into such a prolonged silence when the god pulled them both to a halt. “I am not as good with magic as my brother, not many are, but I do have enough. There is something here- is Loki close?”

Not an answer, but Tony had given up expecting one. “Huh? Ah, I think he’s…” Closer. He still felt sick to his stomach, but this was the best he’d been since the whole mess had started. “Yeah, he’s close.”

Yet there was nowhere around for him to be, so he didn’t really know what good that was going to do. Maybe Thor was going to fly them up to some city in a sky, or dig them to a place underground. Or make some weird magic hand gesture… things and… form a building from nothing. Literally. It materialized in front of them- a towering, stonework thing with a door that looked to be about two feet thick, and made of pure metal. “Oh my god, you made a house, what the fucking-“

 

“I did not. I revealed it.” Thor studied the door for a grand total of two seconds and then bashed the steel in with one casual swing of his hammer. There was a great, screaming sound as it rendered apart, and then a horrible clang as it hit the ground. Tony cringed, wishing he’d had time to cover his head- it hurt enough without the awful noises. “Anthony… I have always cared for my brother. Until now, I have only not known how to show him.”

Tony wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. Loki had been in pain- obvious, horrible pain. How had Thor not known what to do about that, had he been blind and deaf his entire life or what? The god hesitated as if he knew these thoughts, but helped him walk along without drawing the conversation back up. Tony was sure somebody had heard the door crash, but the building was empty- or, at least, the entry room was. It looked like the place had been ransacked in a hurry.

Were they too late? No, Tony was sure Loki was close by. There wasn’t much in here, a few damaged doors, some hallways, a set of staircases… “Down those.”

Neither of them questioned this decision, though Tony wasn’t sure where it had come from. Thor released Tony, which he was definitely grateful for, and lifted Mjolnir- again the night in shining armor to trudge his way into danger first. Well, Tony was more than willing to limp along in the background, defenseless as he was, and leave the Thunderer to take the lead as he stumbled his way down the stairs.

Willing, of course, until they reached nearer the bottom. They both stopped in their tracks, like startled deer, but surprisingly it was Tony to recover first. He was still aching, though not so much now, but he sprinted past Thor as if he were in prime shape, by some miracle not spilling down to the floor and breaking his nose on the concrete.

Loki, it had to be him, was  _screaming_. What had Steve said, that Tony had sounded like he was dying? He could understand that fear now, because that was exactly how this sounded - how could somebody make a sound like that unless they were? He had to get to him, he was the only one who could make that stop, right? Tony was running so quickly he couldn’t halt himself in time when the door appeared, and collided into it with a crack that he really hoped had come from the wood. Thor shouted something, so it must have looked as painful as it felt, but Tony didn’t really care. He fumbled and shoved at the lock into he eventually twisted the door open properly, and nearly fell over himself throwing it open.

It was a… interesting sight. The giants must have cleared out, because though the room was stuffed full of some freakishly pretty people, not one of them was over seven feet tall. They were also staring at him in utter confusion, except for the one who was bent on the ground beside-

Loki. The god had stopped screaming, but he was curled up in a tight ball and trembling so strongly Tony could see it even from here. The Vanir woman had her back turned to Tony, but the way Loki was flinching from her touch… The possibility that she was trying to help him didn’t even come to mind, all he saw was Loki being hurt  _again_. Thor had come down the stairs behind him, and said something that may have been a warning, but Tony didn’t wait to listen before rushing off- towards friend, or foe, or whatever. Towards Loki, and that was all that really mattered.

 

"Get away from him!" His voice was weak, there was far more anger than force, and he couldn't have painted a very imposing picture, but to his surprise the Vanir scattered obediently, all but the women kneeling beside Loki. Tony didn't know or care what she was doing- he snarled the warning once again and she looked up, regarded him with wide eyes of surprise, and stood, not moving away but putting just enough space between them for him to land uninhibited at the god's side.

It was more falling than crouching, and his knees shot with pain as they collided against the ground, but he felt none of it. Loki's trembling had not stopped, and his head was still buried against his arm, the sleeve having grown long-since wet, soft whimpers falling from his throat every few moments. What the curse brought with it was gone, the pain finally absent, but Tony's own memory of it was still there hours later, and even he was shaken- there was no telling how bad Loki was.

"Loki? Babe?" Pet names. What was he trying to do, annoy him into alertness? Tony just knew that he was scared, and the word came out of its own accord as he reached out and lay a tentative hand over Loki's shoulder.

He flinched, and whined, drawing in on himself and shaking his head, frantic, breath coming in gasps. Tony did not remove his hand, just began slowly, gently, rubbing circles along his back, trying to encourage him to relax. He was not aware of the world behind him, not until the empty room echoed with the clang of a body against metal, and he flickered a glance over to see Thor pinning the Vanir girl to the wall, one-handed, the other hefting Mjolnir up. He couldn't quite tell whether the hammer or the man was more alight with rage, but in either case he felt a great flicker of satisfaction, quickly dulled when his brother's booming voice caused Loki to sob, and tremble all the harder.

"What have you done to my brother?" Thor was practically roaring, oblivious to the fear he was causing, so viciously angry the whole damn room seemed full of it. "Answer me! Now!"

The girl- because really, she was more that than a woman, to finally get a good look at her- let out a terrified little squeak, and one of the elder Vanir jumped in, placating. "She was attempting to heal him, Prince Thor."

"Heal him?" Again, the volume made Loki flinch, and Tony pulled him close, muttered reassuring sounds, making no difference. "You brought this upon him- I will not be lied to!"

"We are not lying, my lord! We..." Here, at last, the man hesitated, seeming almost shamed. "We saw the trickster had broken free of his bonds after your battle with the storm giants. We had intended to lay waste to their army, but it was already in defeat when we arrived, and we thought his release had gone... unnoticed. We gathered the chains and- and bound him again, but he attempted to fight, and we thought he might prove dangerous. We brought him here, hoping we could subdue and hold him until Asgard could be contacted, but then he..."

Well, that was all Tony needed to know. He wanted to join in the screaming, to let these well-intentioned idiots know what they had  _done_ , but he couldn't risk anything more that might upset Loki. He was only now seeming to realize that the pain had actually stopped, freezing in Tony's arms, breathing hard and frantic. Thor continued to shout, and the younger god lifted his head, slowly, to look about in confusion, tears practically stained into his cheeks. Only when he noticed Tony did he stop completely, staring at him with such a look of disbelieving relief that Tony had the painful and ridiculous urge to cry, because nobody should have to look like that, especially not for him.

 

But Loki gave him no time to say as much or even to think on it, because a moment later the god had grabbed him and pulled him close, held him tight and then the room was gone, they were rushing through the air and Tony must have forgotten how to breathe, because there was nothing in his lungs, and gasping, swallowing in air did no good. His whole body felt tight, his head heavy, and he was on the verge of fainting when it was all over, Loki was holding him again, kissing him through tears, and Tony had no fucking idea where they were.

"Loki?" It was difficult to get the words out, with the god going for his lips; quick, needy kisses, reassuring himself Tony was there and whole and by his side. "Loki, look I'm-  _god_  am I glad to see you, you can't imagine how glad I am, but you've got to-"

"No." The word was cracked, and Tony had the feeling it was the first Loki had spoken in a while. "No, I don't. I don't have to do anything, I-  _Tony_."

He so rarely, if in fact had ever, called Tony anything but his last name that the mortal froze, freeing Loki up to make him his personal cuddle toy once more. He was crying all the while, and so Tony let the words drop and simply wrapped his arms around Loki's back, pulling the god in close and whispering that it was okay, they were safe now wherever they were, he was safe. The trickster, the supervillain, the murderer just nodded, and whined, and sobbed into his shoulder until he had lost the strength for it, and Tony himself had fallen silent, trying to pretend the wetness down his own cheeks had come from Loki's tears and not his own. Neither of them spoke for a while, beyond the useless murmurings he had taken up from the very beginning, and when Loki had worn himself down, he finally spoke, muffled against his shoulder. "I never thought he would do that to me."

A whisper, tinged with disbelief, the soft look of a child or loyal animal whose faith had crashed and burned and didn't know  _why_. That Loki had still possessed even the slightest trust in Odin's limits seemed like half a miracle to Tony- but that was, undoubtedly, well and gone now. "You know, for once he didn't mean to."

Loki nodded, and Tony realized that he really knew and believed that, and the ache in his chest only swelled. "But I thought the bond would hurt. I did not think he had made it so... strong." He shuddered, again, and the other recalled his own hallucinations, how his world had seemed to turn on him and crumble, ripping his mind and body apart. Eighteen hours, under medical care, stopping the worst of it. Loki had been through nearly forty, with no help but a Vanir girl who had no idea what she was doing. Tony didn't know how he was even talking, sane enough not just to recognize him but to calm in his presence. "I thought you were- and Thor, I saw-"

He broke off on a low, shattered moan, collapsing against Tony's chest. "It's okay. You're all right, we're okay, it's all fine now. I promise. Thor came to help you, he brought me here. Or... well, Loki, where are we?"

The room was dark, wherever it was, but the floor was laminated wood, nothing like in Asgard, and Tony was leaning against some kind of furniture, not a wall. "It's Earth. One of my homes," Loki explained, softly, after a look around of his own. "In Canada, I think."

"Shit. You got us all the way to Earth?"

"Yes. It is dangerous, though, to travel realms in this way, and I cannot hide from Heimdall."

"You're amazing, you know that?" It was pure awe, a genuine compliment like Tony rarely ever gave, and he almost managed to smile. "Loki... we need to go back to Asgard."

"No." The god flinched, and scrambled back and up, so suddenly Tony could not even try to stop him, his eyes crinkling in confusion. "No, I won't. I am not going anywhere near him. He'll hurt me."

His voice was angry, practically snarling at him, but on the last sentence it became barely audible. "No, I won't let him. I swear, Loki. I- listen, you've gotten through all this before. And this time you've got me. We can leave in a heartbeat, but he has to undo these runes, or this might happen again."

A month was not up, but Tony didn't care. After what Loki had been through, he would sooner wage war on Asgard-and boy would that one go down awfully- than let him risk enduring it another time. The god was clearly conflicted. He was wide eyed with fear and anger both, his teeth bared in something like a snarl, but he was shaking, and Tony could see tears waiting to fall. Tentative, he rose, emboldened when Loki did not move away, and stepped closer, wrapping his hand around the back of the god's neck, head leaning against his chest. "I've got you, all right?"

He sensed the nod, did not see it, before Loki was holding him close again, his whole body quivering like a leaf in the wind, head ducked against the top of Tony's. "All right," he agreed, softly. It was almost a shock, so different from the man or god or whatever that he had once known that Tony said nothing just yet, afraid of changing his mind. "But... not yet?"

"No. Not yet." At that Loki's shoulders drooped in relief, he let out a great shuddering sigh, and Tony knew he was all that was keeping him up, now. All that had ever bothered to try.

  
\------

  
They returned to Asgard in the morning, after spending the night curled up together in bed eating Thai food because Loki'd had the brochure taped beside a house phone (it was a favorite of his, apparently, especially the peanut sauce) and enough cash in the drawer to fund a small army. The god had hardly said a word all night, whereas Tony had rambled away even in his own exhaustion, telling whatever stories came to mind until the very moment he fell asleep, head drooping against Loki's shoulder, a plate of pad Thai resting in his lap until the god placed it on the ground and helped him lay down, sleeping only once he was well assured that Tony was a very real presence just beside him, would not leave, or harm him.

The whole realm seemed to be abuzz when they arrived, flashing straight into the court because Loki had wanted to waste no time, and did not care who he interrupted. Coulson, apparently, in a shouting match with Odin over how they were going to find the two of them, over what would happen when they did, and why he was beginning to really hate this backward, abusive realm.

He did not trail off when they appeared, simply fell completely silent and composed in the space of about a second, nodded his approval to Tony with a simple, "Stark." Sometimes, Tony found the man infuriating, but he couldn't help but grin, both to see his face and the look of rage on Odin's. He expected the agent to leave, but he simply waited by, ready to observe, but silent, never interrupting.

Rage which immediately turned to something he could not place as the Allfather stood, and regarded Loki in a long, thoughtful silence. "You returned."

"Not for you. Anthony wished to, and I would have these runes removed, and only you can do that."

"Thor is off looking for you. He will need to be here," the man said, slowly, eye narrowed. He knocked his spear to the ground, one of those magical echoes pulsing through it, and Tony did not doubt the Thunderer would be there in a few minute's time. "Where did you go?"

"Away. From you. I was convinced this may not be the wisest option, in the long term."

Odin nodded, and again, everything seemed to be in slow motion. There was a tension between them which Tony did not want to risk breaking, and so he remained mostly quiet, watching Loki force a blank expression, despite the fear he knew he was hiding, and watching Odin watch him, equally unreadable. Nobody did anything, never even seemed to break eye contact, for a long stretch, and then the door crashed open, and Thor barged through, never even slowing as he passed before he was right beside Tony, snatching Loki into his arms with a gentleness that he would have thought impossible, from him.

"Brother. I am so..." He did not seem to know the words for it, but Loki grimaced, and nodded, so Thor simply hugged him once more, silent. When he broke away, he did not step forward, nor back, but kept between Loki and Tony, his brother and his friend, and met his father's eye. "He returned freely, father. Remove his binds as promised. I believe Anthony has more than made his point."

"Do you? The mortal brought this upon himself, insisting so on trusting Loki. They have done little to prove they deserve our trust. And yet..." Tony was ready to start screaming, to point out that Loki was here, willingly, that just one person's belief, a little faith, had been enough to calm him into at least coming to speak, but he froze on the pause, and met Odin's eye for a long, silent stretch. "I may be inclined to agree." And well, wasn't that just a hoot? Tony wanted to throw it out there that he really didn't give a fuck, but now might not have been the best time. Surprisingly, Odin actually stepped toward him this time, and once he was close Thor moved around, coming up to Loki's front, a strange parallel to that day in the court when they had first received these carvings in their skin.

It was a little weird, having the ruler of all the realms place a hand to his chest, scowling slightly, but Tony had endured plenty of weird, lately. "You know that he will not let your realm rest. Regardless of what you may have done for him, it is not in his nature to let things be."

"I'm counting on it, actually," was all Tony said, and he simply grinned when Odin frowned in apparent suspicion. Still, there were no more questions, Thor was prepped with his palm to Loki's own markings, and after a nod between them father and son began to speak, a soft, murmured spell the words of which Tony could not even begin to decipher.

He was expecting something big, but once both gods let their hands drop to their sides and stepped away to survey their work, Tony felt nothing. He had to pull his shirt away, to check to see if there was anything there, but the skin, beyond the reactor of course, was smooth, unblemished, no Norse-god magic to be found. He had grown so used to the lines that it was strange to see them gone, but a good sort of strange, and so he looked up to Loki and met the god's eye, shared a grin of relief, thanks, a silent promise.

And then, in a flash, Loki was gone. Coulson tensed back to an action-ready stance, confused, and Thor let out a shout of surprise, reaching forward to grab where his brother had just been, likely on instinct. Odin turned to glare at Tony, and soon the others were doing so too, varying levels of bafflement on every face.

He could only laugh, shrug, and throw them all the cheekiest grin he could manage. "Really, what the fuck did you expect?"

\-----

Odin was right, as it turned out. Loki  _didn't_  leave Earth alone, and was in fact back to his old ways almost the moment the Avengers touched ground. This to attack the SHIELD headquarters and hijack all the frequencies to play the audio or video of Supernannies (Coulson was practically crying for joy), and turn Clint's clothes all neon pink and fluffy. Next, some slight destruction in the New York subways involving a giant horse- who people swore had way too many legs- and then an incident in a coffee shop, civilians calling in to report that Loki had arrived and kidnapped Tony Stark, who had been seconds away from paying for the drink he really could have used right then, thank you very much. (The team burst in, tracking Loki's location, to find him bent over his own table, Tony pounding into him from behind, and boy had that one been a bitch to explain during Fury's debrief.)

There were notable differences in his antics- the fact that he never seemed  _quite_  so ready to kill Thor, the slight decrease in destruction of public property, a huge increase in crimes which were more strange and annoying than actually dangerous, and the fact that somehow, by the end of it, Tony always seemed to end up in his bed or vice versa, laughing or fucking (sometimes both), and slowly, it got to the point where neither of them was quite willing to leave before morning. Then afternoon, evening, the next day, maybe a few, sometimes a week, until Tony was wondering if he ever wanted to leave at all.

And the thing about Loki, even beyond this newfound fixation on harmless crime, that made him so much better than all the other villains?

He was always smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaand fixed the formatting problem. Whoops. Hope you all enjoyed the read! I had much fine writing it.
> 
> EDIT: Made SO many grammar and spelling fixes! Whew, took me long enough to get around to that... I need a beta one of these days.


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